


Not Broken, Just Bent

by HarmonySong



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonySong/pseuds/HarmonySong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20-year-old Emma was just recently let out of jail after being set-up by her former accomplice, Neal Cassidy, and miscarrying soon after. Soon after moving to Boston, she meets the closed-off, and somehow alluring playboy Killian Jones who is known for breaking girl's hearts; except for his irritating girlfriend Milah's, that is. Has Emma finally found her home there in Boston with her new friends, or will she once again run, never to be seen again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New City, New Beginning

_Puttin’ my defenses up_

_‘Cause I don’t wanna fall in love_

_If I ever did that, I think I'd have a heart attack_

 

Emma Swan shoved the apartment door open, gazing around at what was now her new home- at least, until she moved on into the next city- and set down her bags, listening for any signs people.

"Hello?" she asked, while giving the room a quick once-over. It was a fairly large apartment, much larger then what she had actually thought when she looked at the ad online asking for a roommate. The floor was brightly gleaming, dark-red wood with absolutely no rugs whatsoever, which nicely matched the rather gloomy, black walls. The furniture matched the floor, being almost entirely cherry red, giving the entire place a darker, more mature theme. Emma stepped a little further into the apartment, evaluating each room as she passed it. First, there was the living room with a black couch and matching chairs surrounding a flat-screen TV, then the adjoining kitchen, a bathroom, and two bedrooms, all of them all with the same color scheme. Privately, this was starting to creep Emma out. Who was this person that lived here, a vampire?

"You must be Emma." a clear, sharp, but not entirely unfriendly voice snapped Emma out of her thoughts, making her head instantly snap in that direction. A figure with shoulder-length black hair and commanding brown eyes stepped into view, wearing, unsurprisingly enough, a black sweater and jeans. Did this woman even know there were colors other than black and red in this world?

"I am. And I'm guessing you're my roommate." Emma stated, already knowing the answer. 

"Yes, I am. My name is Regina Mills." she held out a hand, and Emma clasped it and gave it one firm shake. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Swan." 

"You as well, Miss Mills," Emma murmured, hoping Regina wouldn't be able to see through her lie. In reality, the less people she knew, the less that could eventually turn on her and betray her, as they all inevitably did, so she did not like meeting new people. 

"I'm going to leave you to settle in, Ms. Swan," Regina added. "By the way, several of my friends wanted to meet you tonight. If you aren't too tired, we would all enjoy your company." Emma inwardly groaned. She wanted to stay as far away from people as possible, but she did need a job, and maybe they wanted to meet her at bar or restaurant that she could get a job at.

"Sure, that would be fine," Emma once again lied, breaking eye contact briefly. "Where did they want to meet me?" Regina looked down briefly at her watch.

"You probably haven't heard of the bar the  _Enchanted Forest_ , but our group likes to meet there every week on Friday nights at around 7:30. I can give you directions, if you like." something in Regina's almost icy tone threw Emma off for a moment. She hadn't done anything to offend Regina to her knowledge. Then Emma rolled her eyes at herself. Since when did what people think affect her? _  
_

"No, that's fine. I'll find it by myself."

"Great. My apologies, but I have to go to class now. Don't forget; the  _Enchanted Forest_ at seven thirty." without waiting for a reply, Regina turned and dashed out the door, leaving Emma rather dazed and tired. Picking her luggage back up, she checked out both bedrooms and, after throwing her bags onto the ground next to her bed, threw herself onto the latter, the jet lag from the change in time zones between Phoenix and Boston catching up quite quickly with her exhausted frame. Within moments, she was asleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Emma glanced down at her watch, cursing at the 7:48 that stared back at her mockingly. Even though impressing random people she had never met before was not very high on her to-do list, being late never seemed to work out well. Especially when it happened to be your monthly, she thought dryly. Been there, done that, never going to make that mistake again. Finally, the sparkling green-and-brown  _Enchanted Forest_ came into view, making Emma sigh with relief. The moment she opened the door, however, she froze, shock written on her features. She had never seen a bar quite like this before. Instead of the normal dim lighting, or occasional dartboard, this bar really looked like an enchanted forest. Real, live trees grew inside, while the brown wood floor looked so much like a regular forest floor Emma had to look twice. Ivy seemed to grow along the ceiling and walls, along with winter creeper and other wall-growing plants. Even the bar and tables seemed to fit for they were made out of wood. 

"Nice to see you here at last, Ms. Swan," the rapidly becoming familiar voice once again disturbed her out of her thoughts. Emma winced as the words sank in; she had overslept like she often did, and like usual, she was paying the price. 

"Sorry I'm late," she finally muttered awkwardly. "Jet lag." a fleeting expression of understanding crossed Regina's face, before she motioned to the large group next to her. 

"Everyone, this is Emma Swan. Ms. Swan, this is Mary Margaret Blanchard-" motioning to a pixie haired brunette with a sweet smile- "Her fiancee David Nolan," pointing to a handsome, fair-haired man, "Ruby Lucas," nodding at a dark haired, green-eyed beauty who winked at Emma, "Belle French..." the introductions went on and on, and Emma began to zone out, at least until Regina got to the last two, "Milah Gold, and her boyfriend, Killian Jones." Milah shot Emma a glare, while her boyfriend looked at her appraisingly, eyes lingering in some places. Emma felt an unwanted pink tinge rise to her cheeks, even as she tried not to look him over in the same way, instinctively knowing he would make some kind of remark about it. Walking over to the group, she looked for a seat, only to realize the only available one was right smack dab to the left of Killian Jones. Groaning inwardly- because guys as hot as he was were always bad news- she sat down next to him and ordered a beer (thanking her stars she had the sense to wait till her 21st birthday before moving here). 

She had just begun to relax when Jones glanced her way once more. 

"Why so stiff, love?" he asked, and she felt her eyes widen in horror at his deep, timbre voice and accent. This guy was seriously the definition of 'sex on legs', she cried inwardly. After a moment of silence, apparently assuming she had already fallen prey to him, a smirk began to gather on his face. Emma heaved a disgusted sigh.

"And let me guess, you're willing to offer your services to help me relax?" Emma shot him a glare, annoyance increasing as his smirk widened. 

"I am most willing to offer my considerable services for the lady," he purred. Emma shook her head, thoroughly disgusted.

"You're openly flirting with a girl that literally just got here and is completely jet-lagged,  _and_ you have a girlfriend, too. You are disgusting." she stood up, needing to make a retreat. Killian's smirk fell for a moment.

"Where are you going, love?"

"Not your love."

"Where are you going,  _Emma_?" inwardly shivering from the way he said her name, she shot him another disdainful glance.

"To fix my make-up. Is your group not allowed that privilege?" 

"And yet, your make-up looks perfectly fine," Killian countered smugly. Emma took a deep breath. She would not be annoyed by this idiot. He would not affect her.

"You may think that you can pull off the smudged eye liner look, but to tell you the truth, you can't, and I can't either." without waiting for a reply, she strode off to the bathroom, almost running into a stall. Why did the hot guys always have to have such a flawed personality, she wondered. And why did they all have to turn out to be manipulating scum that stays long enough to gain your trust, then either sets you up or disappears out of your life forever. Or both. Taking a deep breath, she promised herself that she would never do that to herself again. She would never fall in love. And most especially, she would not fall in love with Killian Jones. 

She snorted. Like anyone could actually fall in love with a self-centered, egotistical bastard that flirts with other girls with his girlfriend right beside him like that. At this moment, she could not think of anyone she cared less for than he. She already loathed him in every sense of the word, and to be told that she had to sit there with him every Friday night? Personally, she would almost rather gargle with acid.

"Emma?" an unfamiliar voice snapped her out of her thoughts this time.

"Yes?" she asked, wondering who had come after her.

"It's me, Mary Margaret," Mary Margaret said softly. "You've been in here a long time, I was getting worried." Emma heaved a sigh. This was why she didn't do relationships. They worried needlessly, tried to help where you didn't need it...

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. 

"Emma, you can be truthful, you know. Was Killian getting on your nerves? I noticed you were speaking to him before you left." Emma sighed again. She might as well just tell her. She was going to be around long enough for that information to be important, anyway.

"Yes, he was. I can't believe you're friends with him. He's a self centered prick who only cares about himself," Emma said, before wincing. "Sorry. That came out harsher than I-" Mary Margaret started laughing.

"Oddly enough, that was my first opinion of him, as well. Once you get to know him, he's not half as bad, I promise."

"Mmmhhhmmm." Emma wasn't convinced. 

"Now come on, the others are probably getting worried now." Emma slowly opened the door, carefully wiping at the tiny smudge in her eyeliner that had allowed her her getaway, and followed the other woman out the bathroom door. To her surprise, their table was no quite lively. 

"Probably playing 'Truth or Dare'," Mary Margaret said quietly, noting Emma's confusion. "It's a tradition." Great, Emma thought with a sigh. Just great. As she rejoined the table, she heard Victor ask Milah, "Truth or Dare?" 

"Truth," Milah said. Victor thought for a moment. 

"Have you ever been to a strip club?" Milah shot Emma a glare and answered, "No, but I have my own one almost every night. She glanced meaningfully at Killian, leaving Emma confused and disgusted all at once. Why was Milah glaring at her? The rest of the table erupted into laughter, and Emma forced her own laugh, then listened intently as Milah asked Killian, "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," he answered calmly. 

"I dare you to text your mom that you are currently at a concert completely naked." Killian instantly whipped out his phone and did so, smirk easily sliding into place, before he turned to Emma.

"Truth or Dare?" she felt panicked. He could very easily tell her to go and kiss one of the guys here, or sit on their lap, or... she gulped. If it were up to her, she would never touch another male in her entire life; she had been touched by them entirely too often. But truth was even more dangerous. They could find out about her childhood abused years, or about Neal and the baby, or about her prison sentence. What was she going to do? She couldn't do dare, she couldn't do truth. Then she realized she had said the last word out loud.

"What song do you privately listen to that you would never tell anyone about normally?" she breathed an inward sigh of relief at the easy question.

"None. I'm not ashamed of any song that I listen to," she said coolly. Without looking at Killian one more time, she turned to Regina. "Truth or Dare?"

 

* * *

 

 

It was sometime past midnight when Regina and Emma finally made it home, before collapsing into bed. Thankfully, they had only done two more rounds of Truth or Dare, and she had picked dare both times. Killian's dares had both not been very humiliating, as one required her to text her family an embarrassing story (She had no family) and the other, give your crush a prank call (Crush? What crush?). But in order to remain under the radar, she had texted and called two old contacts that she had no idea how they were still in her phone, forcing a laugh and trying to look humiliated. She had been relieved when they finally stopped and started to play another much safer game.

Emma peeled her shirt and jeans off, replacing them with pajamas, and after brushing her teeth fell once more into bed. Tomorrow, she would try and get a new job at a bar- maybe even the Enchanted Forest- and settle in. And avoid Killian and his weird girlfriend, Milah. She still had no idea why Milah seemed to hate her so much; she hadn't even said anything to her but yet the dark-haired beauty had spent her time either glaring at her or snogging Killian in front of her, as if she expected Emma to care. Like she would care if the annoying girl that seemed to already hate her, kissed her self-centered, inappropriate boyfriend that just happened to also be insanely hot. 

She rolled onto her back. Well, if Milah thought she was jealous of her boyfriend, then she might as well show her most definitely that she was not. With that, she closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as she dropped off. Her last thought was of black hair, an infuriating smirk, and brilliant blue eyes. 

 


	2. How Do We Call this Love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a flash back of attempted rape/non con about two thirds of the way through the chapter, also, because of that, rating has gone up to M. Like usual, kudos are more treasured than silver, and reviews than fine gold. :)

_**Maybe some part of you just hates me.** _   
_**You pick me up and play me,** _   
_**How do we call this love?** _   
_**One time tell me you need me tonight,** _   
_**To make it easy, you lie** _   
_**And say it's all for love.** _

 

_"Hey babe," a familiar voice drifts over to where Emma is lying face-down on a bed. She looks up, a tiny smile lighting up her face._

_"Hey." Neal looks down for a moment, before walking over to the bed and taking one of her hands in his._

_"Do you trust me, Ems?" he asks, and Emma looks away and down. They've only known each other for about six months, two of which were spent as rivals- at least, to Emma they were. Neal had eventually won her over, and they had begun living together just two short months before. He was perfect, kind, loving, and caring, but something about him just seemed a little... off. Her lie detector seemed to always be on alert when he was around, but then, Neal didn't even believe she could detect lies. He always told her to stop that 'childish nonsense.' She had just turned 18, so she guessed he must be right. He was almost 22, after all._

_"...Yeah." she finally said hesitantly. She didn't, not completely, but she knew she probably would soon. That thought in itself should probably be scary, but even though at times she almost panicked whenever he left the house for a short while, she felt mostly at peace. Even though something just wasn't right about him... She shook her head inwardly. She needed to do what Neal said and stop her childish antics._

_"I have these watches that I need you to take. I want you to wait for me by the park that's 15 minutes away from here by foot, okay? I'll come for you in a couple hours." she felt her lie detector start to ping. Childish antics. You need to stop these childish antics, she told herself._

_"Okay."_

 

 

Emma slowly drifted into consciousness, feeling disoriented for a moment before remembering where she was; her bedroom in Regina's apartment. She slowly sat up, pushing back the covers and placing her feet on the ice-cold wood floor. Even after two weeks of staying here, she still felt disoriented every single morning. It probably didn't help that she kept dreaming about her less than pristine past. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she made her way into the kitchen. The sun was just beginning to rise, red and orange and pink rays hitting the window, making Emma wonder why she had woken up so early. She was normally the last up everywhere she went, but today... She sighed. She'd gone to bed early last night; that was probably the reason. Taking a carton of yogurt out of the fridge that Regina had allowed her to stock two shelves of, she grabbed a spoon and popped the lid, watching the sunrise as she did so. As the birds began chirping, Regina padded out, still in her pajamas, and froze for a moment.

"Ms. Swan. I didn't expect you to be up already," she said calmly, a note of surprise that she did not quite manage to take out evident. Emma merely shrugged.

"I went to bed pretty early last night, that was probably the reason."  _That, or the nightmares._ But she couldn't exactly tell this girl she barely knew, "Hey, I had a really bad nightmare about the time my ex set me up and put me in jail, so I woke up early." Regina thankfully seemed to believe her, for she nodded, and walked over to the coffee maker before looking out the window

"It is certainly a beautiful day outside," Regina said, almost absently, as if thinking aloud. Emma took another spoonful of yogurt.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed quietly. Regina turned around after several minutes of silence and made eye contact for the first time in two weeks.

"I need to get going soon, remember that we moved the  _Enchanted Forest_ reservation down to 7 P.M. flat," she said. She then grabbed her cup of coffee, and without waiting for an answer, walked back into her bedroom and shut the door. Emma groaned inwardly. She needed to move out of this town quickly, she knew. The people she had come to know over the space of a few short weeks were so different, so nice from what she was accustomed to, but they kept trying to get to know her better, and Emma knew that could never happen. Always, it seemed, either Ruby, Mary Margaret, or both sat next to her during the weekly game of Truth or Dare; though the questions weren't overly personal she could tell that they were probing into her response, trying to figure her out, and frankly, she found it quite unnerving. So, for the past two weeks, she had managed to come up with different excuses every time they started to play Truth or Dare. She prided herself on being able to think on her feet; every Friday and sometimes Tuesday she proved it. And, even better, no one had seemed to notice.

Except Milah, maybe. Emma finished her yogurt and stalked back to her room, a huff of disgust and annoyance rising in the back of her throat. She had no idea what she had done to offend the dark-haired woman, but whatever it was, Milah seemed determined to make Emma's life miserable. She subtly redirected almost every conversation, no matter what it was about, as a way to either insult Emma or try and get something personal out of her; she insulted, snapped at, and recently, yelled at Emma at every opportunity, and let's not even mention the disaster that occurred when Milah sat next to Emma for a game of Truth or Dare. Emma had had to employ every trick, joke, and witty remark she knew of to avoid the barbs and traps that were set in every Truth and Dare. After 5 rounds, Emma had just barely managed to escape by running to the bathroom and didn't come back for more than 30 minutes. By that time, Milah and Killian had thankfully left and the game of Truth or Dare broken up, allowing her to enjoy the rest of the evening with Ruby, Mary Margaret, Regina, and Belle. 

Glancing at her watch, she dragged a brush through her hair and put it into a ponytail before grabbing her phone and heading out the door. She might as well just head on over to the  _Jolly Roger,_ a bar and diner that she currently worked at, early, she mused. It was less than a 20 minute walk from the apartment, so instead of hailing a cab like she usually did, she set off on foot. 

 

* * *

 

 

20 minutes later, she opened the door to the diner and walked into the back, coming back out in her uniform and a clipboard. Within the next hour, the breakfast rush had started and Emma along with two other waiters were working a sweat trying to tend to the many customers. 

"Ariel and Philip just had to skip work today, didn't they?" Emma complained to Sean, one of the other waiters. He nodded in agreement. "I mean, I know that Ariel took a three day vacation after working for two years or more without taking a single day off, and Philip's father-in-law is on his deathbed, but still..." Emma glanced up to look at the next customer that had come in.

"Shit. Can you take those two for me? I know they're in my section but..." she sighed. "I'll even take over one of your tables for you, just please take those two." Sean looked over. 'Those two' were being shown to a two person seat and given menus. 

"Emma..." he said softly. He paused, and she was about to downright beg, but he continued. "In the two weeks I've known you, you have never asked for anything, so I'll help you out. Just tell me why you don't want to." he paused again. "Please don't tell me you have a crush on him and you're jealous of his new girlfriend." Emma started coughing, eyes wide with surprise.

"Seriously? Me have a crush on  _him?"_ She burst out laughing at the ridiculous assumption, shaking her head while she did so. "Milah hates me; she'd make my life even more of a hell then than she already has if she knew I'm a 'lowly downtrodden waitress' as she'd probably put it." Sean tilted his head, looking her straight in the eye. She stared back, refusing to back down, and finally, he nodded.

"Okay. I'll take over that table." Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." he threw a smirk over at her.

"How about you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night, just as a thank you?" Emma rolled her eyes, outwardly grinning, but the sadness she felt on the inside started to grow. She was bad news for this type of guy. 

"Sure. But just once," she conceded reluctantly, before turning to grab the water pitcher. 

 

"Swan?"  _Shit._ _Just ignore him. Just ignore him._

"And will that be everything for you today, or would you like dessert?" she asked the elderly couple sitting across from Jones. 

"I think we're good," the man said, glancing tenderly at his wife before replying. For some reason, it set an ache through her heart.  _What I wouldn't give for somebody to love me like that..._

"Swan, is that you?"  _Did that man ever shut up?_ She wondered, wishing she had kept her hair down so that it could shield at least part of her profile. 

"Alright, I'll get the check," she said, pasting on a smile before turning as quickly as she could and half-running up the steps. Grabbing the check, she returned back to the booth and set it down.  _Please don't let him look up, please don't let him look up._ Wait, why was she worrying about him? She should be worrying about Milah. 

"Swan!"  _Just ignore him. Just ignore him._

"I'll be back in a sec, just take your time," she said to the couple, once more pasting on a fake smile and starting her retreat to the next table-

"Swan! I know it's you, stop trying to hide." Emma spun around, not at all amused and making no effort to hide it.

"Hi Jones. I believe that you already have a waiter, and I have other tables to attend, so bye, see you later." she heard Milah's spiteful snort, heard her murmur 'why even bother? She's just a worthless piece of junk that serves at bars. The only way she'd get any kind of attention is if she showed her tits.' Feeling white hot anger begin to bubble up in her, she kept walking as fast as she could, just barely managing to keep her composure. 

Her shift could not end fast enough. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Well, well. Fashionably late as usual, I see!" Ruby cheerful voice once more welcomed her to the  _Enchanted Forest._ Emma rolled her eyes.

"You know me, always have to strive to be fashionable." 

"Bet it must be hard, seeing as you have such an inferior job." 

"I don't believe she asked for your opinion, Milah!" Ruby said angrily, shooting a glare at her. Emma saw Jones shoot her an apologetic look, but right now, she didn't care. It was his fault in the first place; Milah would never have even noticed the waitress waiting on all the tables next to her was Emma if it weren't for him. Milah tossed her head arrogantly. 

"Well, she should have. I might have had mercy on her and given a little money to the poor, destitute little orphan." Emma flinched away as if she'd been slapped; even after all those years, the O-word still stung. She glanced around the table to see if anyone had noticed, but thankfully, they all seemed so focused on Milah that they hadn't.

What she didn't notice was Killian's saddened expression as he gazed at her. 

"I am not a poor or destitute orphan." Emma said very, very quietly.  _You just picked the wrong fight, buddy._ "Before you insult me one more time, I'd advise you to look at me carefully and have a logical debate as to whether or not this is, in actuality, a good idea. Assuming, that is, that your mind is actually capable of logical thought, which, I must confess, I'm having trouble seeing." Emma stood up, using her height as a means of intimidation. She had taken enough of Milah's constant harassment sitting down; she was not just going to sit down and take it politely forever. She watched as Milah began to turn red with anger and tremble very slightly, while Jones looked both angry and satisfied at once. For a moment, she felt a stab of pity that he had such a terrible girlfriend, then quickly shoved it away. It was his choice, after all. 

Emma leaned in slowly, glad that Milah was close to the edge of the booth end, staring her down intently.

"Have you rethought that yet?" she asked. Milah glared at her and reached up, slapping her hard across the cheek. She went in for another, but Emma took a step backwards, allowing the slap to expire while raising one eyebrow as if to re-ask the question. Milah then shoved Ruby off the booth, and sending Emma one final glare, ran out of the building, yelling, "This isn't over, Swan!" as she went. Emma watched her leave, then touched her cheek cautiously.  _Why the heck is there some wet on my cheek?_ she wondered, hoping she hadn't started crying, before she the hand back in front of her eyes and realized that Milah had slapped her so hard it had started bleeding. 

 "That was..." Jones started slowly. 

"...Awesome!" Ruby finished, a wide grin spreading across her face.

"Emma, your cheek, you need to put ice on that," Mary Margaret put it next. Emma shrugged it off.

"I'll live without ice, I assure you." she replied, sitting back down, this time squished between Jones and Ruby- how exactly had  _that_ happened? - and beginning a game of 'Never have I ever'. After everyone had eaten, Emma started to tense back up from her relaxed position between Ruby and Jones, knowing what came next- Truth or Dare.

"Alright guys, it's Truth or Dare time!" Jones said with a grin that Emma was beginning to think of familiar. "I'll start, going to the right. Like usual, you cannot refuse a truth, but you can take a shot instead of a dare." he glanced at Emma for a fraction of a second, and Emma didn't even have to think about why he had wanted to go to the right. 

"Emma, truth or dare?" he asked. 

"Dare." she had learned from several week's experience that dare was always the safest. Then she saw Jones's 'I got you now' smirk and instantly wished she had picked truth.

"I dare you to sit in my lap for the rest of the game." Emma's eyes widened very slightly and for a moment she started to reach for her drink before she took in his smirk once more.H was expecting her to take the drink, she knew. Her eyes narrowed; she was not going to let him think he could win their little game. She felt a hot spark of determination begin to build up, and slid onto his lap, thanking her stars that this particular bar had partitions between each huge table, making each table basically private. 

"Ruby, truth or dare?" she asked calmly, as if she hadn't just climbed into  _Killian Jones's_ _lap_. She took in everyone's surprised expression with a smug grin, then purposefully wiggled just the slightest bit in Jones's lap.

"Minx..." he whispered into her ear, and she had to contain a shiver.  _Seriously? Since when did Emma Swan shiver when guys whispered into her ear?  And since when did she also flirt with and sit in the laps of guys that were already taken?_

"Dare," Ruby finally said, still gaping at her, but with a pleased twinkle in her eye that made Emma want to roll her eyes. 

"I dare you to run around the entire bar yelling 'the sky is falling, the sky is falling!'," Emma said, feeling a smirk begin to form despite herself.

 

Two more rounds passed by, Killian first daring her to kiss Victor (she took a sip of her drink), and then to say her first crush (which she happily evaded and half-truthed her way through, since there was  _no way_ she was going to tell anyone about Neal). Then he looked at her for the fourth time.

"Emma, truth or dare?" 

"Truth," she responded confidently.

"What is the worst sexual relationship you've ever been in?" Emma froze, feeling her blood drain out of her face and her body stiffen. 

_Ooh, aren't you a pretty little thing? I think I might just keep you._

"I-I...I need to go to the bathroom," she lied. Then she slipped off his lap, shoved Ruby off the booth, and ran. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Swan!" without looking back, she leaped outside, into the- guess what? -pouring down rain. Just great. 

"Go away and just- just leave me alone!" she yelled back at him. 

"How could I  _ever_ leave you alone?" Killian asked, voice softening. She could feel him right behind her and- wait. Did she just call him  _Killian?_

"Very easily," Emma snapped. "Just as easily as everyone else tha-" she stopped short, wincing. "Just let me go." she started walking again, but before she had even gone a few steps, Killian grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him forcefully. Instinctively, she pulled free, kneeing him in the groin as she did so.

"Stay away from me!" she cried, fear written in her eyes, before she started to fall backwards, eyes closing as she drifted into unconsciousness.

 

_"Oooh, aren't you a pretty little thing?" the man towered over her, stinking of alcohol. "I think I might just keep you. What do you think, girlie?" without waiting for a response, he reached down, ripping her shirt open._

_"No!" she shoved him away, trying to run, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back around and pinning her back to the wall._

_"No. You are gonna stay right here, perfectly still. Do you hear me? If not, there are always other methods." he drew a knife from its sheath and held it at her throat for a moment. "Do you understand?" Emma merely nodded, fear written across her eyes. That this monster could ever have adopted her had been beyond her imagination at first, but now she knew why he had done it. He needed a woman to take advantage of._

_"Good girl," he said, laughing darkly. He began groping her chest, making Emma screw her eyes and face up, desperately willing this to be over. But she knew it wouldn't be until he was completely satisfied. She watched, horrified, as he began to reach for his belt..._

 

"Emma! Emma, are you okay? Please tell me you can hear me!" she groggily opened her eyes.  _What the heck happened?_

"Where am I?" she asked. She looked up and saw, staring back at her, a pair of deep ocean blue eyes peering worriedly at her.

"I brought you back to my apartment. I'm sorry, I would have brought you to your home, but Regina would have been already gone, and I couldn't carry you back to the bar anyway. How are you doing? Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." Emma stated, pushing herself into a sitting position and trying to ignore her dizziness. Killian, however, didn't ignore it.

"You bloody hell are not," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and starting to push her back down. Emma flinched away from his touch.

"Please, just stop," Emma protested weakly. A flash of understanding crossed his face and he stepped back. Then the memories came flooding back- everything that had happened after that dreadful game of Truth or Dare; running outside, kneeing Killian in the groin... "Sorry about earlier when I kneed you in the groin. And when I yelled at you. And... basically everything," she almost whispered. Killian nodded.  _  
_

"It's okay, my manhood is still intact, so no fear," he said with a wink, making her smile and give a half-hearted eye-roll in spite of herself. "Look, there's one!" he added, making Emma's brow furrow.

"One what?" 

"A smile. You should do it more often," he said, his own quiet smile beginning to grow. Then his face turned serious. "Look, I don't know what happened in your past, but it probably won't be easy to speak about it-"

"Then let's not, shall we?" Emma cut in. Killian paused.

"As you wish," he finally agreed. 

"So... can we still be... friends?" she asked timidly. For a moment, she could have sworn that a flash of disappointment went across his face, but it was so swift she couldn't tell if she'd been seeing things or not.

"Of course," he said, that same soft smile returning. She found herself staring despite herself, having never seen a genuine smile of his before, before catching herself. She was acting like some middle school girl with a crush, for Pete's sake!

"Friends?" she asked.

"Friends." 

 


	3. Warrior

_All the pain and the truth_

_I wear like a battle wound_  
 _So ashamed, so confused_  
 _I was broken and bruised_  
  
 _Now I'm a warrior_  
 _Now I've got thicker skin_  
 _I'm a warrior_  
 _I'm stronger than I've ever been_  
 _And my armor, is made of steel, you can't get in_  


 

"Hey." Emma looks up, raising an eyebrow as if to motion Killian onwards. "Would you... would you like to talk about it?" 

"No. I think going to see a therapist for two years has given me enough experience with that, thanks," Emma said coolly. She tried not to feel bad about lying to him- she had never been to a single therapy appointment in her life- but still felt a slight twinge of guilt, especially when she saw how he flinched slightly. 

"Right. My apologies, milady," he said, offering her a small smile that made her feel even worse. 

"Seriously, who speaks like that nowadays?" Emma said, letting out a relieved breath when it came out teasingly like it was supposed to instead of guilty and sad like she was afraid it was going to. Jones just shrugged, his smile changing to a smirk, then turning back to serious in the blink of an eye. 

"As for where you'll be sleeping tonight..." Jones started. "If you wish, I can drive you back to Regina's, or I can take the couch here." Emma considered for a moment. She knew instantly which one she  _should_ say; that it was too much of a trouble to spend the night and to go back to Regina's (he has a  _girlfriend_ for God's sake, Emma!) but she just felt tired, and she didn't want to wake up Regina. She steadfastly refused to think about the possible third reason; that she might  _want_ to stay with Jones. But she barely even knew him, and what little she  _did_ know of him was not complimentary. So why didn't she want to leave? 

She sighed. She was not going to think about that right now.

"I'll take the couch here," Emma said, cooler than she had intended. Jones shook his head immediately. 

"I think you misunderstood me. I said  _I_ would take the couch. I cannot let a lady take the couch, especially after... what the lady may or may not have been through, which was, I admit, partially my fault. So in order to extend my apologies, please take the bed." he paused. "And, it would just be bad form as well for me to let a lady take the couch." Emma sighed. She didn't have enough energy for an argument right now, and she sensed Jones knew that too. 

"Fine," she finally huffed. "But don't think your 'good form' changes anything between us." She inwardly groaned as soon as she finished her sentence, knowing what he was going to say to that. 

"So you'll admit there's something between us?" he asked, cocky smirk appearing. 

"If when you say 'something' you mean undying hatred and aversion to the cocky bastard-" she winced as his smirk widened, not wanting to go down the road of all the things he could answer to the last two words- "standing next to me, then yes." Jones placed a hand to his heart in mock heart, making her roll her eyes. 

"Ah, Lady Swan, you wound me."

"Cool it, Jones. Stop twisting my words around to suit you." she stood up from the wooden chair she had been seated in up until that point, and glared pointedly at him.

"Now, where is that bed you promised me?" he raised an eyebrow. "Shut up." 

"But I didn't say anything, love."

"You didn't have to. And don't call me love." he just shook his head, then motioned for her to follow him.

"Come with me, I'll show you to the bedroom," he said. Emma followed him without a second thought. She was exhausted, after all, and wanted nothing more then to hit the sheets and sleep for a week. Hopefully without nightmares, she thought with a shudder. 

"Are you alright?" Jones asked, glancing backwards just in time to see her shudder. Emma nodded.

"Fine." she said tersely; it was obvious Jones didn't believe her.  _Let him think what he wants,_ she thought, annoyed. 

"Here we are," Jones said, opening the door to the room. As soon as she stepped in, Emma's eyes widened involuntarily. It was huge, making Emma wonder just who this guy was that he had enough money to get an apartment that huge, and very tastefully furnished. Unlike Regina's monotonic continual black and red, Jones's room also had its fair share of black, but blue and cream accompanied it instead. There was a huge, four poster dark blue bed with a soft cream nightstand. The floor was cream colored as well, a strange sort of wood that Emma had never seen before, with a soft black rug at one side to step onto when you got up in the morning. The walls were black, but not a deep, threatening sort of black like Regina's; it seemed somehow softer and gentler in a way. A dark blue dresser with black knobs completed the room; a scarcely furnished, but rather masculine room. 

"Are you rethinking your decision to sleep by yourself tonight?" Jones asked. 

"Do you ever shut up, Jones?" Emma said, exasperated. "You have a girlfriend, Jones, act like it." she turned away from him and started towards the bed, not noticing his hurt and sorrowful expression. 

"Well then, Swan. This should be good-night," he said softly, before exiting the room, closing the door behind him. Emma instantly felt worse; he was offering her his home, his  _bed_ without even asking for a thank you, and that was how she repaid him? She needed to apologize... she yawned. She was too tired right now, she decided. She would apologize tomorrow. Without a second thought, she collapsed onto the bed and within seconds was fast asleep. 

 

* * *

 

"Emma, wake up." Emma mumbled something incoherently and rolled away from the voice. "Emma, love, you need to get up. It's 8:00." that got her attention; she snapped her eyes open. 

"Already?" Emma groaned, rolling out of bed and running a hand through her hair. When she looked back up at Jones, it was to see him swallow, eyes darker than usual. 

"Swan..." he started slowly, eyes flicking downwards for a moment before going back up. "You might want to adjust your clothing before you go back to your apartment," he finished, enunciating each word slowly as if he was drunk and knew it. Emma looked down, cheeks flaming in embarrassment as she realized her shirt had ridden down in her sleep until it showed quite a lot of her cleavage. She frantically gave it a tug, re-adjusting it as fast as possible. 

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, tensing as she waited for the expected innuendo. But he just nodded slightly, a small smile gracing his countenance. 

"It would be bad form not to tell a lady things such as that," he said softly, before he turned away. "I suggest you get ready to return to your apartment, as I need to leave for work." Emma's eyes widened in realization.

"I'm so sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to impose like that. You should've just left." Jones turned back to look at her, a hurt expression on his face. 

"What kind of man do you take me for? I won't just leave a woman hanging like that, without saying goodbye." his eyes were boring into her now; she had to fight the urge to look away, because looking away implied weakness as she couldn't be weak in front of anyone. She had learned that the hard way; she didn't need a lesson two. He took a step closer to her. "No matter what you think, no matter what experience has told you, I won't do that to you."  _Empty words,_ Emma thought bitterly. Neal had said the same thing, as had her best friend before that, and several pairs of her foster parents too. Why would this be any different?

"And what makes you think I've been abandoned before?" she challenged, meeting him head-on. 

"I was watching you last night," he began softly. "When Milah called you an orphan-" she tried not to flinch. "-You did the same thing last night that you did just now. You flinched."'

"Did I?" Emma deadpanned, willing him to get the message; do not talk about this. But either he was just too thick to realize the message, or he just didn't care. She was willing to bet the latter.

"Yes, you did. And I get it. You're afraid to talk, to reveal yourself. But believe me, things would be a lot easier if you just  _let someone in._ " She felt the familiar panic rising within her, and she instinctively went on the defensive, retreating behind her walls.

"Oh, really? And what do you know about abandonment, hmm? You have a girlfriend, friends that care about you, you even have a family. You don't even have the right to talk to me," Emma snapped.

"I know your type. You're just an arrogant, cocky playboy that toys with girl's hearts. You tell them whatever you think they want to hear in order to make them fall in love with you. And then, once they have, what do you do then? You break them. You break their hearts. And you know what? I'm done with that. I've had enough falseness in my life, and I am done with you. Screw friends. Screw friendship. I never want to talk to you, ever again." without another word, she whirled past the astonished and hurt Jones, into the living room, and out the door without hearing a word. She felt a small stab of triumph even as she tried to crush the stabbing guilt.  _It was for the better. Even if he was available- which he isn't- and even if he wasn't a playboy- which he most definitely is not- he would still run away like everyone else that ever said they wouldn't leave me. It's like a curse of mine._

She started down the steps, wanting to get away as fast as possible and not willing to wait on the elevator. Halfway down, she regretted it, but her fear kept her on her feet, the animal instinct to run giving her strength until she finally got out onto the street, hailed a cab and wound up back in her own apartment. One thing was for certain: she needed to stay away from Jones.

 

* * *

 

 

Several weeks passed by with absolutely no sight of Jones, much to Emma's relief (and disappointment, but she tried not to think about that). Finally, though, Friday rolled around again. Regina came up to her, told her curtly there was going to be someone new there and that she might want to dress nicely (she tried to ignore the uneasy feeling she got from the gleam in Regina's eyes), so she for once decided to pull out some stops and put on a deep blue dress that hugged her body to the waist, with a skirt that had just that little bit of flair and came down to the knees. After adding a pair of heels, curling her hair, and adding a bit of make-up, she decided she looked fine- not too dressy, not too sloppy either. 

As she got there, the rest of the group was just filing in. Jones- who she pointedly ignored- was arm in arm with Milah, who gave him a quick kiss with smirking at Emma- had Jones seriously not told her how much Emma hated him now? She supposed not, after all, his type lied to all the girls they dated. Ruby and Snow were chatting animatedly, while Robin seemed lost in thought. Regina and Belle were arguing, and Emma was, well, Emma. She woodenly followed the group back to their table, wishing she had skipped this Friday like she had to the two other Fridays and three Tuesdays, but Regina had all but mugged her and dragged her in there herself- she had actually threatened to do exactly that, and Emma believed her threat wholeheartedly. She had obediently shown up as desired, nicely dressed up as she tried to ignore the men's stares. She had gotten used to them by now, but that certainly didn't mean she had to enjoy a bunch of creepy old men leering at her. 

"You look nice, Swan," Jones said calmly, as if it was perfectly normal to compliment her, but he peered worriedly into her eyes as he spoke, as if he was afraid she was going to explode and claw his eyes out. 

"You clean up nice too, Jones," Emma said as coldly as she could, which, regrettably enough, wasn't very cold at all, however, he just dipped his head in reply and silently moved on. Emma did her best to ignore Milah's death glare as she followed Ruby to the table. Once there, however, she stopped short in shock, mouth falling open.

_"Graham?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter guys! I'll try to update soon, but I have a question for you: Do you prefer shorter chapters that update every couple days, or longer ones that update every 4-6 days? 
> 
> Like always, reviews are like Captain Swan- they make me warm and fuzzy on the inside. :)


	4. When I look at You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, ya'll! Here's the next chapter. There is a bit of attempted rape/non-con at the third part of the chapter, so please exercise discretion when reading. :)
> 
> Like usual, every kudos/comments/reviews is valued, and makes my day. :)

__You appear just like a dream to me_ _   
_Just like kaleidoscope colors that cover me_   
_All I need_   
_Every breath that I breathe_   
_Don't you know you're beautiful_   
_Yeah, yeah, yeah_   
  
_When the waves are flooding the shore_   
_And I can't find my way home any more_   
_That's when I, I_   
_I look at you_

 

" _Emma?"_  Killian watched as Graham leaped to his feet and was in front of her in an instant, throwing his arms around her so tightly that she struggled to breath. "Emma, I haven't seen you for years!" he exclaimed. Emma struggled in his grip.

"Can't... breath..." she gasped out. He instantly loosened her grip, the wide grin still apparent on his face.

"How have you been?" he asked, his eyes narrowing for a moment, as if there was more to his words then just a simple much-said phrase.

"Fine," Emma said, her own small smile on her face, though Killian noticed it looked slightly forced, her words a little stilted. "I trust the years have been good to you?" Graham looked down for a moment as though embarrassed, before looking back up so quickly Killian couldn't decide whether he had actually looked down or not.

"Yes, they have, Emma." he paused, his smile reappearing. "You look like they were good to you, as well." he looked at her meaningfully, and Emma looked down for a moment, a shadow crossing her face before she looked back up as if embarrassed.

Once again, Killian noticed her expression seemed forced, as though she was not really embarrassed, but didn't want to show what she was truly thinking.

"I could say the same about you." Emma gave him a meaningful glance as well, but it seemed more... flirtatious... than Graham's had. Killian inwardly cursed at himself. Why, exactly, did that one stray glance have to make anger boil within him, wanting to punch Graham in the face for attracting her attention. _He_ wanted to be the one she looked at, but, like usual, he never seemed to get what he wanted. He shook his head internally. Of course, like usual, the only thing he wanted would never happen. She had kept her silence over the past few weeks, ignoring his texts- he had managed to snag her number from Regina after offering to pay for three of her drinks- skipping out on Tuesdays and Fridays both. He had decided that if she didn't show up this time, he was going to go to Regina's apartment to see her. Fortunately- or perhaps unfortunately- she had shown up, and promptly begun chatting away with Graham.

He couldn't help but notice, however, that everything seemed a little off- her smile seemed forced, her eyes seemed dull, her voice sometimes hesitant- but he promptly shook it off. He was just seeing things, he told himself, his selfish desire that she would dislike Killian's best friend making him see things that weren't there. But when Graham asked what her current job was, she froze, briefly, but Graham's saddened expression told Killian that he wasn't seeing things this time. Quickly, he glanced around to make sure no one else had noticed, and after seeing that everyone else was occupied- Milah was chatting with Belle, Mary Margaret and Ruby arguing over Ruby's boyfriend, David muttering something to Robin, Regina making a sarcastic remark at Aurora- he focused his gaze intently on Emma.

"You know, the usual thing most people do after recently moving to town," Emma said lightly, but Killian wasn't fooled by her tone, and from Graham's expression, neither was he.

"And that is?" the latter asked, eyes narrowing in a way that would look threatening if his tone wasn't laced with concern. Emma's eyes flickered away briefly, before she squared her shoulders and met his stare straight on. It was the same way she had met Killian's look when he had confronted her about her status as an orphan, and Killian recognized it as being her response to something she didn't want to talk about; she acted strong to try and fool the person into thinking she was better off than she really was.

"I'm in the business of not telling people who just up and abandon their friends without even so much as letting them know they were leaving, what I do for a living," Emma grit out eventually. Graham's eyes widened with surprise and hurt, but Emma held up a hand. "No. You don't get to talk." Glancing around to make sure no one was listening- Killian quickly averting his eyes and making his expression look interested in the joke Robin was telling Victor- she continued.

"I didn't even know if you were alive or not, Graham," she said softly, but her tone was angry. "For all I knew, the same monster that... that..." she paused again, pain etched onto her face for the briefest of moments, before it became stone-hard. "I thought you were dead," she stated flatly. "Frankly, I hoped you were." Killian winced, but Graham, surprisingly enough, didn't seem phased.

"Believe me, I wished I was too," he stated softly, gazing into her eyes with a strange look on his face. "The only thing that kept me alive those years, was the thought of you." Emma's eyes widened fractionally, before they narrowed again.

"I wish I could say the same thing about you," she snapped. "But I promised long ago never to lie to you, and I'm not going to break that promise." without waiting for him to reply, she stood up and stalked out. Graham looked after her with a longing look on his face Killian recognized, mostly because he had the same expression on his face whenever he thought about Emma. 

"That went well," Graham finally muttered, then looked over at Killian. "You heard that entire thing, didn't you?" Killian looked down guiltily. He knew it would be impossible to fool his friend.

"Aye. I'm sorry, mate," he admitted. Graham shook his head.

"Don't be. When I saw her, I admit I was kind of anticipating that kind of reaction." 

"Do you like her?"

Graham paused.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"You bloody well know what I mean, Graham. I saw the way you look at her." Graham sighed.

"Fine. I like her. Is that a crime?" he almost snapped, making Killian raise an eyebrow. Graham never snapped; Emma's anger must have hurt more than he admitted. 

"No, mate. It certainly is not." Graham's eyes widened momentarily, and he cursed himself for letting his emotions show on his face. 

"You-" before Graham could finish his sentence, however, Milah grabbed Killian's arm, a seductive smirk on her face.

"I'm getting tired. What do you say about retiring to your apartment for some more... enjoyable activities?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

Killian tried not to think about another woman, a woman whose voice was low where Milah's was high, soft where Milah was firm, fiery where Milah was soft.

He failed.

Forcing an answering smirk onto his face, he answered, "As you wish, milady." he tried not to think about how much he wished to say the same thing to a woman whose eyes were brilliant emeralds instead of Milah's light blue sapphires, whose hair was spun gold instead of Milah's dark locks.

He failed.

 

* * *

 

 

Trying not to look too hopeful, Killian shouldered his way into the  _Enchanted Forest_ once more. It had been a mere four days since he had last seen Emma, but it felt like centuries. 

 _He's a goner,_ he thinks.

As he sat down next to Milah, Graham and Emma walked in. Graham had a genuine smile on for once, and even Emma seemed less tense than usual. The sight instantly sent a stab of jealousy through him, which was absurd, because he had a  _girlfriend_ for goodness's sake.  _Not that having said girlfriend was really a choice,_ an unhelpful voice reminded him. 

"Emma. Graham." he greeted. Graham dipped his head, smile still plastered on, while Emma didn't even acknowledge his presence. He tried not to flinch. Why did her indifference have to hurt so much? Graham sat down next to Killian, eyes still fixed on Emma, and after hesitating, Emma slid into the booth next to Graham. While he wasn't happy about Emma sitting next to Graham, he had to admit it was better for her to be one person over from him then all the way across the table and then some like she had been on Friday. He sighed. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did  _Emma_ have to be so complicated? She was now even more of an enigma than she had been just a couple days ago; the tidbits he had managed to glean from Graham and Emma's... conversation... doing nothing but making him even more confused. Had Graham been a orphan too? How had he met Emma? Why had he left? What 'monster' had Emma spoken about? 

He shook his head, trying to clear all the jumbled thoughts out from his head. He had Milah to think about now; it was his job to make her happy. 

 _That's right, Killian. She's just a chore for you; another task your father heaped upon you._ And seriously, did the voice in his head have to sound like Emma now? 

"Killy, what do you think?" Milah asked, a wide smile on her face. Killian tried not to wince at the nickname that he had hated ever since he had first been called it, but he knew it would do no good to argue. 

"Sorry, love, what did you say?" he asked distractedly. 

"We- I mean all us girls- were talking about wedding locations," Milah said, looking innocent, but he read her intentions as plain as day. She was reminding him that time was running out. He would have to marry Milah soon. 

"I see." Killian said emotionlessly. 

"We thought that there was a really good spot near Miami, Florida..." Killian soon zoned out; he couldn't believe that Milah had somehow forgotten how his brother, Liam, had died just a few miles away from that location; perhaps she didn't care. He instantly felt bad thinking that; Milah was infatuated with him, she must have just forgotten. As she prattled on, he nodded and 'mhm'ed in all the right places, his thoughts continuing in directions completely different from Milah's. 

 

Some minutes later, after finishing dinner, the group lounged back against the booth, and Killian knew what was coming next. He saw Emma tense up, and realized why almost instantly; Graham was right next to her. For the first time, he wished he had never started the tradition of playing Truth or Dare (it had seemed like a good idea at the time, as he could probe whoever he needed to figure out with a well phrased truth - or, as had been the case with Milah, make sure they weren't hiding anything), as he could now see just how much she hated it. 

"All right everybody!" he said quickly, before anyone else could try and start the game. "I'll start the game, going to my left." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma shoot him a glance that could almost be called grateful and resisted the urge to smile. "Robin, truth or dare?" 

 

At the end of the game, as everyone was leaving, Milah whispered into his ear that she had an emergency she needed to take care of, and rushed out the door, leaving Killian alone. He lingered as inconspicuously as possible, until it was just him, Graham, Regina, and Emma. Regina excused herself shortly after, and he was left with his best friend and the- no. He was not going to think about that.

"How was your weekend, Emma?" he started casually. Emma tensed up immediately.

"It was great. Watched some TV, enjoyed my freedom from pushy jerks." she gave him a pointed glance. Graham elbowed him, a small smirk on his face, and Killian wanted to shoot him a glare and tell him to shut up, but kept silent. 

"How about yours?" she asked, her tone conveying the feeling that she was just being polite and could not care less about his weekend. He wiggled a little around the booth so he could get a clear view of her face, before answering.

"Terrible. The most beautiful woman in the world has been snubbing me lately, and I don't know how to make it up to her." feeling glad that he had moved across the table so he could see into her eyes, he locked gazes with her, pleased when a slight flush rose, though she masked it very well; only the tips of her ears grew red.  _She's got skills,_ he thought with awe.  _Though, maybe she's just angry._ That was certainly a very comforting thought.

"I suppose, you being the playboy you are, that most come as a terrible shock that there are women out there that are immune to your charms." She said coldly, a chilly bite to her voice. Graham winced, sending Killian a sympathetic glance, but he ignored it.

"No, love. Not women, a woman. She's very special." 

"Not your love." she snapped back without even thinking, and he had to resist rolling his eyes.

"Obviously, love." she rolled her eyes this time, looking resigned. 

"Now you're just doing it on purpose," she said with an exasperated sigh and half-hearted glare. He couldn't resist it, he just had to.

"Ah, but I do like seeing a woman all riled up."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Only if you make me." he raised an eyebrow suggestively, waiting for the eye roll and glare. She didn't disappoint, but this time Graham snickered. Instantly, her glare turned to him, and he held his hands up in surrender.

"I have yet to see a girl that responds that way to Killian," he said, still snickering quietly. 

"Like I said, she's very special," Killian said softly, loud enough that Graham, who had moved closer towards Killian, could hear him while Emma couldn't. Graham's eyebrows rose.

"I think I need to get going now, I have an early day at work tomorrow," Graham said hurriedly, shoving Killian good-naturedly off the booth, leaving Emma and Killian together.

 

Several minutes passed entirely in silence, both people looking anywhere but at the other. Finally, Emma looked up to see Killian gazing at her in a way that made her heart stop beating for a moment.

"I would like to apologize for my actions several weeks ago," Killian started. He saw her eyes widen in surprise; whatever she had been expecting him to say, it definitely wasn't that.

"It was wrong of me to push you when you weren't ready. I am truly sorry." Emma tilted her head.

"What do you want?" she asked coolly. Killian furrowed his brow, confused for a moment.

"What do you- oh.  _Oh._ " he felt a throb of anger that she would ever think he would do that. "I ask for nothing, Swan. Believe me, I want nothing but to apologize." He held his breath, expecting her to turn away, but she stared into his eyes for a moment, before nodding slightly.

"Fine." she said. Then she paused. "I might have said some things that were out of line, too." He almost snorted, but Emma was giving him a chance to make it up, and he wasn't going to let it pass by. 

"Perhaps we could... be friends, again?" Killian asked, cursing himself for the wobble at the end of his sentence. To his relief, Emma nodded. 

"Yeah."

 

* * *

 

 

A week had passed after that fateful day, and she and Killian had returned to an approximation of friendship- the lines still tended to blur a lot at times, seeing as she was spending time around Captain Innuendo, but she still wasn't comfortable with him. Not that that was saying anything; she wasn't comfortable around anyone, not even Graham.  _Especially_ not around Graham. 

 

_"Please, no!" a skinny, fragile, sixteen-year-old girl begged. She struggled uselessly, helplessly watching as her foster father started untying his belt._

_"Be quiet!" he growled, before a sickening sneer came out on his face. "Or perhaps, you're just tired of waiting? In that case, I can speed everything up, you little wench." he finished unfastening his pants, and Emma looked away, not wanting to see what was about to happen to her. At least, she thought, she had on skinny jeans. They would help delay the man- but then what? It wasn't like anyone was going to come to her aid, no, the thought was nearly enough to make her snort. It would just prolong her torture. Emma bit her lip as the man started sliding her pants down, her panties for once not coming off with them. She gritted her teeth as his hand slowly started upwards, skating over her stomach, until it reached her breast. The other one joined it, and she screwed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry._

_Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry._

_"Open your eyes, wench." clenching her hands into fists to ground herself, she opened her eyes and met her captor's gaze as steadily as she could. To her satisfaction, it remained steady and did not waver, even when the fingers of his hand grazed the band of her panties. It only faltered as his hand touched the sensitive skin underneath, pulling them downwards._

_Don't cry. Don't lose your composure. She sighed. She was fighting a losing battle, she knew it already, but she would never stop fighting. She would die before she let herself be violated like this. Lashing out, she kneed him as hard as she could, making him step backwards heavily._

_"You little bitch!" he yelled, drawing his knife. She pushed herself off the wall, but completely forgot about her pants that were still in a puddle around her feet, and flailed for a moment before crashing face-down into the ground._

_"No. No. No. No." she whimpered as he dragged her back upwards against the wall, this time pinning the knife against her throat._

_"I'm not afraid to kill you," he said menacingly. "One squeak, and you're dead." he roughly grabbed one of her legs, pulling it around his hip, and drew back._

_No. No. No. No. No. No._

_Right as he entered her, and the pain was just beginning to bloom inside her, however, the door creaked behind them. The man turned, pulling out of Emma, but not with drawing the knife._

_"Make a move against her, and I'll put a bullet through your head," a masculine voice said. Emma managed to turn her head enough to see a young, maybe 18-year-old man, with light brown hair standing there, gun aimed straight for her captor._

_"Take one step, and I'll cut her throat," her captor responded._

_"I don't need to take a step," the other man responded calmly. "I can shoot you from here." Emma raised an eyebrow. He was lying._

_Thankfully, though, her captor didn't have an ingrained lie detector, and simply growled at her savior, before turning and running to the other exit._

_"Don't think this is over," he warned as a parting shot._

_Emma collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. A little bit of blood seeped onto the ground, but she didn't care. She hugged herself, rocking back and forth. She needed to be strong, but that could wait. Right now she needed to be weak, when no one else was around._

_"Miss?" a soft, accented voice asked. Her head snapped up. She had completely forgotten about her savior. Composing herself, she quickly pulled her clothes back on._

_"Thank you," she said emotionlessly. She knew that if she betrayed even the slightest hint of emotion, she would burst into tears, and she wouldn't be able to stop them anytime soon._

_Her savior slowly put his gun back into his holster, then held his hands up. Emma tilted her head, confused, before realizing he was trying to show her he meant no harm._

_"What's your name?" he asked quietly, walking towards her. The teenager tensed, not wanting to be near another man after what had just happened._

_"Emma." she stated coldly. He stopped several feet away, a small smile appearing on his face._

_"Nice to meet you, Emma. I'm Graham."_

 

He had saved her so many years ago, but like everything else in her life, it had had to come to an end. The night she told him she trusted him was the last night she saw him... until four days ago, on Friday. It had shocked her like nothing else could in her life, except maybe if Ne- no. She was not thinking about him. She had, at first, been happy to see he had done so well for himself, but later, to her shame, resentment had replaced it.

He had just left her one day, had never written, never once tried to track her down. He had probably been busy enjoying all the luxuries his new life afforded him, she thought bitterly. And when she was crying in jail, first with a stick clutched into her hand, two pink lines etched into it, then when she was strapped to the bed, unconscious, nurses frantically rushing around her, he had made a new life for himself. Why had he been given that chance when she never had been?

Emma's phone buzzed. She looked down, the same unknown number she had seen many times before flashing across the screen.

_Love, I know you know it's me. You can't hide from my devilishly handsome self forever._

That could only be one person. She unlocked her phone. 

[Emma]: What do you want?

[Unknown Number]: Quite hostile, aren't we, love? 

[Emma]: And how did you get my number?

[Unknown Number]: It seems even the Evil Queen can be convinced after buying a few drinks. And love, you should probably add me to your contacts already.

[Emma]: You bribed Regina? 

[Emma]: And I'm not your love. 

[Emma]: And who said I haven't already added you?

She cursed, knowing exactly what Killian would say to that, then added him to her contacts.

[Killian]: I would hardly call it bribery, Swan.

[Killian]: Added me already? Quite eager, aren't we?

[Emma]: Shut up.

Why did she get the feeling he was laughing?

[Emma]: And stop laughing.

[Killian]: Never said I was, love.

[Emma]: Doesn't mean you weren't.

[Killian]: Ooh. You're a tough lass. 

[Emma]: What do you want?

She resisted the urge to add an 'lol' to the end. She should not be laughing with Killian. 

[Killian]: The privilege of taking a lovely lady out to dinner.

[Emma]: You have a girlfriend already. Grow up.

[Killian]: You wound me, love.

Why did she feel like he was being serious?

[Killian]: We're friends, right? Isn't that what friends do, take each other out for dinner?

[Emma]: First I've heard of that.

 _Great. She was now_ texting  _him her life story. Could this get any worse?_

[Killian]: Swan...

[Killian]: I'll show you what a friend is, then. In fact, I'll take you out every week.

[Killian]: You have my word. I will not leave you.

[Emma]: I have to go.

 

She turned her phone off, thankful she was at home. Guys like Killian were too good to be true; sooner or later something would happen, and he would show his true colors. She just needed to make sure she had absolutely no feelings for him; she had made that mistake once already.

 

Then why did it feel like she had already made it a second time? 


	5. Chapter 5

_It's just not fair,_

_Pain's more trouble than love is worth,_

_I gasp for air,_

_It feels so good, but you know it hurts,_

_But you make me wanna act like a girl,_

_Paint my nails and wear perfume for you,_

_Make me so nervous, that  I just can’t hold your hand_

_You make me glow, but  I cover up, won't  let it show._

 

Emma was startled from her reverie by a buzzing in her back pocket. Taking her phone out, she peered at the screen. Three texts from Jones. She groaned, but just as she was about to turn it back off, something took hold of her and made her look at the screen again. 

7:43 P.M. [Killian]: Love, I'm sorry. I've overstepped my boundaries again.

7:49 P.M. [Killian]: Please, Swan, talk to me. 

7:52 P.M. [Killian]: Swan, please. At least tell me you're okay. 

She felt a stab of guilt course through her, and before she knew what was happening, she had unlocked her phone and started typing up a reply.

7:55 P.M. [Emma]: I'm fine. 

[Killian]: Call me and tell me that to my... ear. 

[Emma]: I'm busy right now.

7:56 P.M. [Killian]: I'll believe that when you call me and I hear someone screaming at you to get off the phone.

[Emma]: God, Jones. Will you just leave me be?

[Killian]: The reply I have for that is not something I would like to text you, milady. 

[Killian]: If you don't call me, I will. 

7:57 P.M. [Emma]: Call yourself? Someone's getting a bit desperate. 

That sounded lame even to Emma; an excuse, an evasion, but she was the desperate one, not him, and when she was desperate, her last line of defense was deflect.

7:58 P.M. [Killian]: That's not what I meant, and you know it.

[Emma]: Just leave me alone, Jones.

Well, maybe not her last line of defense. Her last one was shutting people out and refusing to talk to them.

Killian didn't text back.

He called.

For the first two rings, Emma just stared at it, battling with herself whether or not to pick it up. Finally, on the third ring, she ended call, but somehow her finger slipped.

"Swan, you are an idiot." she heaved a frustrated breath as his voice came through. And the way his accent got thicker when he was mad did not do things to her. Nope. Not at all. 

"I should just hang up right now," she shot back.

"I'll keep calling until you either break your phone or answer."

"Then, I guess, be prepared to call for the rest of your life." there was a pause, and once again she was about to hit the end call button when he tried again.

"Swan, love-"

"Not your love." She heard him mumble something unintelligible that she  _really_ did not want to know about.

" _Emma._ " and how could he make her feel weak just by saying her name?

"Look, _love,_ I know... I know that you probably won't believe me." a pause. "But I meant what I said, earlier. I'll show you how..." he paused, and she heard him swallow. "I promise, Swan, that I will never leave you until you know what true friendship is." he paused again, and Emma resisted the urge to sigh. He would leave just like Neal. At least he had the honesty to tell her beforehand. 

She was thinking so hard, she almost missed his next sentence.

"If, by that time, you still hate me, then I will back off. You will never have to see me again." she felt her heart clench at the sorrow in his tone. Suddenly, the end call button didn't seem tempting, and before she could think about why it would  _not_ be a good idea to reply, she said softly, 

"Ki- Jones." she winced inwardly. She had almost called him  _Killian._ He was a playboy that used women, manipulated their hearts and then broke them... and he was also strangely... kind. "I could never hate you."

Maybe her lie detector no longer worked (a likely scenario, she reminded herself), but she had detected nothing but the same raw honesty she had sensed in his texts. 

"Swan..." 

"So, you promised me you'd take me out, right?" She winced. "Not- not like that. Like friends." she heard a chuckle.

"Aye, Swan. I promised I'd _take you out._ " and how did he manage to make that sound so  _wrong?_

"Are you free on Thursday, around 7:15?" he asked after a moment. Emma closed her eyes briefly, visualizing her schedule.

"Yeah, I am."

"Good. Granny's?" her eyes widened in surprise. He wanted to take a girl on a- _out for dinner as friends, Emma,_ not  _a date,_ she reminded herself, to Granny's?

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"See you Thursday, Swan," he said softly.

"See you, Jones."

He was the one that ended the call.  

 

* * *

 

 _It's just dinner with a friend, Emma. Just dinner with a friend._ Not matter how much she told herself that, she couldn't help but be nervous. She knew it was Granny's, so she didn't need to dress that formally, but no matter what she put on, it just didn't feel  _right._ Finally settling on a pair of jeans and a v-neck shirt, she sat down for all of two seconds before she jumped back up again, checking and re-checking and re-re-checking her makeup. When she finally heard the knock on the door, she all but ran towards it.

Jones was standing there with a small, almost shy smile, dressed in a pair of jeans and a button up, not unlike what he wore every Tuesday and Friday to the bar. 

"Swan," he said after raking his eyes over her form briefly. 

"Jones," she returned, cautiously returning his smile and watching as it widened. He stepped back, and the two of them started down the hall.

 

The first time it happened, she thought she was just seeing things. She saw a blur of motion in her peripheral, so quick she couldn't tell what it was. 

The second time, she started watching her surroundings. It wasn't until the 5th time, however, that she finally managed to pinpoint it. 

"Jones, what are you doing?" He looked down, awkwardly scratching behind his ear.

"Nothing," he mumbled. She resisted the urge to laugh; he was a terrible liar. His cheeks were flushed, and for the first time she found him not only honestly attractive, but strangely adorable. The amusement promptly faded, though, when she saw him move his left hand, almost nervously. It was almost the exact same movement she had seen earlier, and suddenly she was sure of what he had been trying to do.

"You... you were..." she started, voice coming out weaker than she had intended. He looked up, brilliant blue eyes meeting hers, and smiled slightly, more of an embarrassed smile than anything. 

"My apologies, Swan," he said softly, for once without a smirk or innuendo. She just nodded and inched a little further away from him. If he noticed, he said nothing.

 _Not even 15 minutes into the da- dinner, and it's already awkward. I should have just let him take my hand. Or arm, or something. Probably arm._ Emma shook her head. Why was she even thinking about that?  _He has a girlfriend, Emma! One that he is planning to marry soon, by the looks of it._ Even though she had been talking with Graham and Ruby, she had still overheard Milah and Jones's conversation about wedding spots, which she had thought was slightly odd seeing as Milah didn't even have a ring on but had said nothing. 

Once reaching the outside of the apartment building, Jones waved her over to a jet black sports car that looked like it must have cost several million. Emma raised her eyebrows.

"That's your car?" Jones nodded, scratching behind his ear and opening the passenger door expectantly. Hesitating briefly, she climbed in, a bit unnerved by the act of chivalry (because who actually does that anymore?). 

Emma waited a trifle awkwardly as Jones walked over to the other side and climbed in, trying not to over think the situation and failing. The entire car ride was silent, a sort of not quite tense silence that put Emma halfway between afraid and calm, but finally, much to Emma's relief (she had always thought she preferred silence; somehow she was now proven wrong) they arrived at Granny's. Jones climbed easily out of the car, and Emma followed. Right as she slipped out, mentally preparing herself for what was to come, Jones appeared right next to her, a slight frown on his face.

"Deprive me of a dashing rescue, will you, Swan?" he asked, and Emma rolled her eyes. 

"I'm not some damsel in distress," she bit out, the words coming out harsher than she had meant. She instantly regretted it- not because of actually saying it harshly, but because of the way Jones tilted his head, peering straight into her eyes. He had this strange look on his face, his blue eyes more intense than she would have liked and she got the feeling he was trying to gaze into her soul, or some other nonsense like that. She stepped back almost unconsciously, and Jones blinked as if coming out of a trance. 

"I know, Swan," he said softly, with an unnerving expression of understanding on his face. Emma got the strangest feeling he somehow knew what she had been through, which was impossible, because no one, not even Graham, knew everything she'd been through. Giving herself a mental shake, Emma motioned to the door that was several yards away with her head.

"Shall we?" Jones nodded, almost absently, and held out his hand for a fraction of a second before quickly withdrawing it and, tilting his head, replied, 

"Ladies first." 

"So now you're going to be a gentleman?" 

"I'm always a gentleman, love." a small smirk slid onto his face, and Emma simply rolled her eyes again, stepping into Granny's.

After sitting at a booth and ordering (Emma was surprised and annoyed but also just a little bit amused when Jones promptly ordered two burgers without even asking her what she wanted to eat- Jones telling her that friends did that all the time, and that she should get used to it), Emma picked absently at her napkin, their earlier silence descending upon them once again, only this time, it was almost comfortable. That is, until she finally looked up to see Jones staring.  _At her._ With an expression she had  _never_ seen on a man's face before... at least, not directed at her. 

"See something you like?" she asked without thinking, desperate to get that strange, almost warm, unreadable look off his face. She was not disappointed; Jones's smirk promptly slid into place.

"Indeed I do, love," he drawled, eyes flicking downwards just long enough for her to know  _exactly_ what he liked. Fighting off a blush, she gave him an eye roll, which only served to make him chuckle.

She ignored the way it seemed almost forced. 

She was saved from having to think up a reply by their waitress bringing their food. Without wasting any time, Emma dug in, moaning as she bit into the burger.

"God, this is so good," she said, opening her eyes to find Jones staring at her with something that looked like amusement with something  _else_ mixed in. What was it- desire, maybe? 

"I trust my choice was satisfactory to the lady, then?" 

"...I guess," Emma said, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him, but also not wanting to try and decipher the strange look that had been in his eyes a few moments previously. Jones grinned anyways.

"I'm winning you over, I can feel it." 

"In your dreams, Jones," she shot back.

"In yours, too, Swan," he replied without missing a beat. 

"You're impossible," she informed him, biting back a smile. He winked at her, before taking a bite of his own burger, copying her moan in a way that made her insides liquefy for a moment. His eyes flicked back open, finding hers.

"You're right, Swan. Granny seems to have outdone herself today," he said,  then casually picked up a fry off of  _her_ plate.

"Hey!" she protested, grabbing for the fry, but Jones popped it into his mouth with a grin.

"Still want it?" he inquired innocently. In response, Emma snagged one of his own fries off of his plate and copied his movements, trying not to think about how familiar and just  _easy_ this was, doing this with him. 

She failed.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Jones made sure to walk her all the way to her door, asking her what day she normally had off every week (Wednesday), before pausing. Emma paused, too, trying to decide whether or not she should invite him into her apartment, knowing that with Jones, she'd probably be setting herself up for at least 8 different innuendos.  _At least._

"See you tomorrow, Jones," Emma said instead, and he nodded, take a step towards her. Her eyes widened slightly, hoping he wasn't going for a hug because even though friends hugged, she was  _not_ willing to hug him. Instead, he grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on it, eyes locked on hers the entire time. 

"Seriously?" she mentally clapped for herself for managing to sound calm and completely un-flustered when she was anything but (She sounded incredulous, too, but she could only do so much when a ridiculous idiot decided to  _kiss_ her  _hand_ ). Jones lingered slightly before pulling away, Emma trying not to whimper at the sudden loss of contact. 

"Goodnight, Swan," he said, a small, almost genuine smile on his face. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and started back down the hallway, leaving Emma panicking outside the door with only one thought in her head.

_She liked the feel of his lips on her skin._

Turning on her heel like Jones had done just moments before, Emma shot into her bedroom. 

She glanced at her phone briefly when it buzzed, to see Jones's text. 

 _Wonderland, 7:00 next Wednesday?_ And then she knew. Jones could read her, could read her all too well, and already she was starting to get unwanted feelings for him.

[Emma]: I don't think that would be a very good idea.

A pause.

9:58 P.M. [Killian]: My apologies, I didn't know you hated that place. Um... Neverland, perhaps? 

She couldn't risk it. He had a girlfriend, for God's sake, and she was planning on moving to New York in less than 3 months. And wait, did she just make the excuse of him having a girlfriend? 

That was it. She couldn't risk this anymore. She needed to retreat and rebuild her walls as high as she could; Jones had already managed to break several bricks apart and she couldn't let him do the same to the rest of them.

10:02 P.M. [Killian]: Love, I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work.

And he could already read her like an open book.

10:03 P.M. [Emma]: I'm not trying to do anything. My Wednesdays just filled up.

Without waiting for a response, she turned her phone on airplane mode, put her pajamas on, and collapsed into bed. 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Emma spent the majority of the day in a daze, knowing what was coming. She felt like a surfer who unknowingly started surfing right before a storm, looked up, and saw a tidal wave barreling towards them at full speed. 

 

That night, Emma entered the  _Enchanted Forest_ with a sense of foreboding that only increased when she saw Jones. Alone. With no Milah in sight. 

 

"Where's Milah?" she asked to no one in particular, already afraid of what the answer would be. Ruby was the one who responded.

"Work. She had something to take care of, thankfully. I for one certainly do not miss that bi-" Ruby froze. "Sorry, Killian," she finished apologetically. Jones merely smiled, not seeming to be disturbed. Emma tilted her head, looking at him carefully.

"It's quite alright." she felt her eyebrows raise suddenly. He actually agreed with Ruby, she could read his expression well enough to tell that. But why?

 

"Jones, truth or dare?" she had no idea how she had ended up next to him, but somehow, here she was. 

"Truth," he responded without missing a beat, intense eyes boring into her own. 

"Um... where did you meet Milah?" Jones froze for a fraction of a second.

"The beach in Miami," he responded.  _Lie._ But not the entire one; he was telling the truth, just not all of it. Why would he even partially lie about something as simple as that, though? 

 

"You lied earlier, you know."

"Did I?" he deadpanned.

"Yeah. You didn't really meet Milah on the beach, did you? Or if you did, there was something more to it." Once again, they were the last two people there, the others having been long gone, leaving the two to sit in uncomfortable silence.

"I'm glad to see you care so much about me, after shutting me out because I wanted to go to dinner with you once a week as _friends,_ " Jones snapped. 

Emma paused. "Look, I..." she had no idea how to finish her sentence, because saying 'I'm only shutting you out because I can't get closer to you would do exactly what she did _not_ want to do. "Jones, I..."

"Emma..." he said softly, and suddenly that look was back, that strange, warm look she had been trying to figure out for almost an entire day. 

"Alright. I'll tell you. But you have to tell me something, too." Emma froze, but she had had too much to drink already and agreed. Somehow he looked reassuring, but that just made her want to run. Before she could though, Jones was moving closer to her.

"Emma, look at me," he said quietly, turning her head with his fingertips. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he said, with the same sort of raw honesty she had begun to associate with him, despite his half truth not even an hour earlier. "If you don't want to answer the question, don't answer. Just please don't lie to me." once again, she felt herself nodding. 

 _She was so drunk,_ she realized. Not quite drunk enough to make her speech more than just a bit slurred or her movements slow, but enough to hinder her judgement. 

"How did you meet Graham?" and then Emma turned away, knowing she shouldn't answer the question.

"I..."

"I understand if you don't want to answer." and suddenly, she wanted to answer, because she knew somehow he  _did_ understand about that. 

"He saved me. A long time ago." she answered shortly, somehow both wanting him and not wanting him to know about her past. 

"From what?"

"I... my..." she stammered, lost for words, and Jones opened his mouth, about to start with his story, probably, but Emma answered first. "One of m- the men in town decided I was... desirable." she looked back up into Jones's eyes, expecting contempt, or perhaps disgust for what she was implying. Instead, they were filled with understanding, and a stormy rage that took her breath away. 

"I hope Graham killed the man," he nearly spat, before his gaze softened. "I'm sorry, Swan." Many people had said that before, but somehow with him it was different. Almost as if he understood the terror, the pain, the feeling of being violated. Which he couldn't, not in full. But maybe, just maybe, he understood some of it. 

It was that thought, coupled with the way he leaned into her, a look that could almost be described as  _tender_ crossing his face, that hit her panic button. 

"I need to go, Jones. It's an emergency." she stared back at him for a moment, before sliding out of the booth and doing what she did best.

She ran. 


	6. Not Like the Rest

__'Cause you've been hurt before_ _   
_I can see it in your eyes_   
_You try to smile it away, some things you can't disguise_

 

It had been a week since he and Emma had become friends again, and he had to admit, he was already missing her. He had had to miss the last two get togethers at the  _Enchanted Forest_ because of work, meaning he hadn't seen her for far too long. 

Turning his phone on, he searched through his contacts before he realized the person he had been trying to contact's number- Emma's- wasn't in his phone.  _Some friend you are. Don't even ask for the lady's number._ Quickly, he scrolled down to the R's and clicked on a number, waiting for them to pick up.

"Regina? Are you free right now?" he asked. 

 

* * *

 

 

"While I have to admit this atmosphere is... charming," Regina stated, "Exactly why did you bring me here?" Killian gave her his best innocent smile, knowing that even Regina wasn't unaffected by it. 

"I just thought it'd be nice to commemorate the old days for a night, milady," he said. "Share a drink, like we used to." He alone knew what a lightweight Regina was, and judging by the look the Evil Queen, as he had nicknamed her, gave him, she knew what he was thinking.

"What do you want?" she asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused. Killian just smiled.

"What would be the fun in telling you that?" he lifted his glass. "To friendship," he added, before Regina could say anything else. Rolling her eyes in a movement strangely reminiscent of Emma, the dark-haired woman copied him. 

"To friendship," she responded. 

 

Several drinks later, Regina was slightly past tipsy, and Killian knew it was the right time to ask for what he wanted. He knew that a clear-headed, sober Regina was about as likely to give him the time of day as a ship was to grow wings and fly, hence his sudden desire to ask her out for a few drinks; the only way she would give him what he needed was for her to first get drunk.

"How is Swan coping with life in the city?" Killian asked casually, motioning for the bartender to refill their drinks again. 

"Fine," Regina said, her speech slightly slurred, though her eyes looked as clear as ever.

"Do you converse with her much?" Regina took a cautious sip of her drink, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. 

"I have her phone number, if that's what you want to know, and no, I am not giving it to you." Killian had to chuckle at that; she was already tipsy, and she still had a sharpness to her mind few ladies possessed while sober, at least, not when around him. 

"Now, your majesty," he said, smirking as Regina rolled her eyes, "A phone number in exchange for a few drinks isn't such a bad deal, now is it?" 

"You're making me sound like Rumpel," Regina grumbled. Killian had to decide whether he wanted to wince or laugh; Rumpelstilskin, or Rumpel as he had just come to be known as, was well known for his infamous 'deals', especially among the elite of Boston. He was also well known for twisting the words of people so that he got what he wanted, so much so that he had been nicknamed Rumpelstiltskin. Now, no-one could even remember his real name, using only Rumpel, or Rumpelstiltskin when they were serious. Regina's mother, Cora, and Rumpel, had had a mysterious relationship, so she was much more familiar with Rumpel then many of the others.

"You wound me, lass," Killian said, holding a hand to his heart in mock hurt. Regina scoffed, and then sobered. "But really, Regina, I'm trying to be a good, friend," he tried not to wince as he said the word, "To Emma, and I can't be one without having her number, now can I?" 

He thanked God he had had the sense to get Regina drunk before asking her; any less drunk and she would have noticed the slight hesitation before 'friend' and immediately questioned him on it; as it was, it took him several more minutes before she finally grabbed his phone and typed Emma's number in.

"Happy?" Regina asked with a slight edge to her, admittedly slurred, voice. 

"Quite, lass," he answered, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. 

 _You are an idiot,_ a voice in his head whispered.  _An idiot in-_ no. He would  _not_ think about that. After bidding farewell to the Queen, he hailed a taxi and started typing up a message to Emma. He knew that just saying 'Hey, it's Killian,' would probably make her instantly delete his number and text out of her phone, as distrustful a lass she was, so he needed to say something she would instantly recognize as him.

10:45 P.M. [Killian]: Hello, love.

He waited about thirty minutes before texting again, hoping she wasn't trying to freeze him out.

11:19 P.M. [Killian]: Lass, you there? 

She was probably asleep, he told himself, not ignoring him. With a sigh, he turned out the lights and went to bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Throughout the rest of the day, he texted her twice, worry increasing over the course of the day, until finally he sent one more, not sure what he would do if Emma didn't respond. 

6:49 P.M. [Killian]: Love, I know you know it's me. You can't hide from my devilishly handsome self forever. 

Barely a minute later, his screen lit up again, and he caught himself grinning.

6:50 P.M. [Emma]: What do you want?

[Killian]: Quite hostile, aren't we, love?

[Emma]: And how did you get my number?

[Killian]: It seems even the Evil Queen can be convinced after buying a few drinks. And love, you should probably add me to your contacts already.

He chuckled to himself; only he and Emma knew of Regina's nickname, as she had jokingly told him once that she thought Regina was some sort of Evil Queen from Snow White or something, and he had ever since called Regina the Evil Queen whenever he spoke of her to Emma. 

[Emma]: You bribed Regina? 

6:51 P.M. [Emma]: And I'm not your love. 

[Emma]: And who said I haven't already added you?

[Killian]: I would hardly call it bribery, Swan.

He laughed as he saw Emma's most recent text. 

[Killian]: Added me already? Quite eager, aren't we?

6:52 P.M. [Emma]: Shut up.

His laughter increased.

[Emma]: And stop laughing.

Then stopped in his tracks; how in the world could she have possible known he was laughing? No one, not even Milah, had that sort of connection with him. 

[Killian]: Never said I was, love.

[Emma]: Doesn't mean you weren't.

6:53 P.M. [Killian]: Ooh. You're a tough lass. 

And he meant it. She was tough, and remarkably sharp witted, but he suspected that her tough, sarcastic exterior was merely meant to conceal her broken interior, to conceal her trust issues, her scars, her broken heart. 

[Emma]: What do you want?

He almost felt guilty for the life he had led; although it was not overly happy, he had a feeling hers was much, much worse. 

6:55 P.M. [Killian]: The privilege of taking a lovely lady out to dinner.

[Emma]: You have a girlfriend already. Grow up.

He knew she was only saying it to protect herself, to keep herself from getting attached, but it still hurt. Still reminded him of how he should be with Milah, not texting Emma, no matter how much he disliked the brunette.

[Killian]: You wound me, love.

6:56 P.M. [Killian]: We're friends, right? Isn't that what friends do, take each other out for dinner?

6:58 P.M. [Emma]: First I've heard of that.

His heart ached for her, but understanding throbbed there, too; until he had met Regina and Graham, David and Robin, and all his mates, he had been friendless. 

6:59 P.M. [Killian]: Swan...

7:00 P.M. [Killian]: I'll show you what a friend is, then. In fact, I'll take you out every week.

[Killian]: You have my word. I will not leave you.

7:09 P.M. [Emma]: I have to go.

He groaned in exasperation; he should have known a person as scarred as Emma would balk at that.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he told himself. He knew that, in order to win her trust, he had to do it gradually; grandiose confessions of his intentions and feeling for her (which he was  _not_ going to think about right now) would only serve to make her run. He could weaken her walls, but only she could tear them down. 

With this in mind, he started typing up another text, but nothing seemed right. For over thirty minutes his finger hovered over the send button, before he finally sent it. 

_Love, I'm sorry. I've overstepped my boundaries again._

That seemed right; apologizing for getting past her comfort zone. What was worrying was when minutes ticked by without her answering; had he scared her so much she had turned off her phone and started packing?

 _Don't be ridiculous. She's probably at work or something,_ he thought.

Despite that, after not even six minutes ticked by, he sent another text. 

_Please, Swan, talk to me._

He figured she would respond to that; she would probably deflect or something, but at least he would know she was okay.

7:52 P.M. [Killian]: Swan, please. At least tell me you're okay.

He felt panic starting to rise, even though he kept trying to tell himself she was fine, she was just at work, she was fine, she wasn't at her apartment about to leave Boston... 

Finally, his phone buzzed. 

7:55 P.M. [Emma]: I'm fine. 

_You bloody well are not._

[Killian]: Call me and tell me that to my... ear. 

[Emma]: I'm busy right now.

 _Sure you are,_ he thought sarcastically. His Swan was a terrible liar. 

He stopped his thinking in its tracks.  _His_ Swan? She wasn't his, probably never would be either, he reminded himself.

7:56 P.M. [Killian]: I'll believe that when you call me and I hear someone screaming at you to get off the phone.

[Emma]: God, Jones. Will you just leave me be?

 _Never,_ he wanted to say. He would never leave her. But he knew that it was definitely not the right time to tell her that.

[Killian]: The reply I have for that is not something I would like to text you, milady. 

He waited a moment, then typed up a second text. 

[Killian]: If you don't call me, I will. 

7:57 P.M. [Emma]: Call yourself? Someone's getting a bit desperate.

He sighed.

7:58 P.M. [Killian]: That's not what I meant, and you know it.

[Emma]: Just leave me alone, Jones.

 _Not bloody likely._ He sighed once more, determined to make her see at least a fraction of his feelings for her. The need for her to trust him was almost overwhelming- how exactly had he become this man that needed someone else to  _trust_ him, of all things? He dialed her number, willing her to pick up. Finally, on the third ring, she did, and he breathed an inaudible sigh of relief.

"Swan, you're a bloody idiot," he stated, hearing her frustrated breath from the other side.

"I should just hang up right now."

"I'll keep calling until you either break your phone or answer." why couldn't she just  _get_ that he wanted to help her, to be with her?

"Then, I guess, be prepared to call for the rest of your life."

"Swan, love-"

"Not your love." A small, sardonic smile lifted the corners of his lips. 

"No, but I wish you were," he muttered under his breath. " _Emma,_ " he said, louder. "Look, love, I know... I know that you probably won't believe me... But I meant what I said, earlier. I'll show you how..." The words lingered at the tip of his tongue, 'I'll show you how I feel about you,' but he shoved them down. "I promise, Swan, that I will never leave you until you know what true friendship is."

"If, by that time, you still hate me, then I will back off. You will never have to see me again." He finally finished with a sigh. God knows how much he hated saying that- a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets- but he knew that only Emma could break her walls, and no number of heartfelt confessions on how he may or may nor feel- he wasn't ready to admit exactly  _what_ he felt for her, but he knew he was getting dangerously close to the L word- 

"Ki- Jones."  _She had almost called him_ Killian _._ That shouldn't make him happy, but somehow it did. "I could never hate you." 

"Swan..." 

"So, you promised me you'd take me out, right?" there was a pause, but right as he was about to respond, she quickly stammered, "Not- not like that. Like friends." 

"Aye, Swan. I promised I'd  _take you out_." he thought for a moment, thinking about his schedule. "Are you free on Thursday, around 7:15?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Good. Granny's?" he would have of course wanted to take her out to someplace much fancier, but he had a feeling she would balk at the idea; she'd probably think it was too much like a date and run. 

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"See you Thursday, Swan," he said softly, feeling a smile curl his lips upwards.

"See you, Jones."

He hung up, feeling strangely like a teenage boy about to take his highschool crush out on a first date. 

It was partially true, anyway.

 

* * *

 

At 7:15 on the dot, Killian raised his arm, preparing to knock. Nervously, he fidgeted, adjusting his shirt, before he finally knocked three times, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. 

After a few seconds he spent in tense silence, he heard footsteps, and the door opened to reveal Emma.

"Swan," he said softly, giving her a quick once-over and smiling at her.

"Jones," she returned, giving him a small, answering smile that made his own stretch wider. He stepped backwards to allow her to get out of her apartment, and the two started down the hallway.

The first time he tried to take her hand, he didn't even realize what he was doing; some unconscious part of his brain told him to stop before he fully reached out, thankfully, but it wasn't until several times later that he actually realized what he was doing. 

Of course, that was the time Emma noticed, too. 

"Jones, what are you doing?" she sounded curious, not annoyed or scared, so he allowed himself to relax. She must have just thought he was fidgeting.

"Nothing," he mumbled, embarrassed, fidgeting once more. Her eyes narrowed, first in surprise, then a hint of panic crossed them.

"You... you were..." she stammered, looking strangely scared. 

"My apologies, Swan," he said quickly, trying to mend the gap that was quickly widening as Emma edged a little further away from him. He resisted the urge to sigh.  _Good job, Killian. Not even 15 minutes into this, and you've managed to screw it up already. That's got to be a new record for you._

Finally, they made their way out to his car, and not a moment too soon. He crossed over to the passenger door, waiting for Emma to climb in.

"That's your car?" she seemed surprised, which he couldn't really blame, because he had never told her exactly  _how_ rich he was- had never actually told her anything about himself, now that he thought about it- but, after hesitating briefly, climbed into the car. 

 

The car ride was slightly less tense than the walk to get there, and for that, Killian was exceedingly grateful. He didn't think he'd be able to survive another moment of that without screaming, or walking away, or kissing Emma. He wasn't sure which one of the three he preferred. 

When they finally arrived at Granny's, he quickly climbed out of the car, intending to assist Emma out, but she stepped out instantly. 

"Deprive me of a dashing rescue, will you, Swan?"

"I'm not some damsel in distress," she snapped, and Killian tilted his head, staring into her green orbs intently. The spell was broken when she stepped back, and he reminded himself to go slowly, be careful. 

"I know, Swan," he answered.

"Shall we?" Emma asked quickly, and he nodded, about to give her his hand for a fraction of a second before he stopped himself and simply tilted his head towards the door.

"Ladies first." 

"So now you're going to be a gentleman?" he smirked.

"I'm always a gentleman, love." 

 

Once inside, he found them a table and promptly ordered two burgers, telling both himself and her that that was what friends did (Emma looking both surprised and amused at the same time). Emma looked down after a moment, toying with her napkin, and he found himself staring at her, watching every move.

 _She's beautiful._ He had known it before, of course, but looking at her again, he was once again struck with just  _how_ beautiful she was.

Then, of course, she looked up, her eyes instantly widening in panic when she met his eyes- he wasn't too surprised, as he was sure his face gave a lot of what he was feeling away. 

"See something you like?" she queried, almost desperately, and he forced a smirk.

"Always, love," he drawled, forcing his eyes downwards.  _Act normal, don't act like you were just staring at her like she's your entire world._

Their food thankfully arrived, saving them from any further awkwardness, and Emma dug in, moaning as she bit into her burger.

"God, this is so good," she said, her moan sending a bolt of heat southward.

"I trust my choice was satisfactory to the lady, then?" he asked as lightly as he could, relieved when she didn't seem to notice the momentary change in his expression.

"...I guess," she said reluctantly, almost like a whiny child unable to admit when she's wrong.

"I'm winning you over, I can feel it," he stated proudly; Emma just gave him her customary eye-roll.

"In your dreams, Jones," 

"In yours, too, Swan."

"You're impossible," she informed him, and he merely grinned, taking a bite of his own burger, feeling his eyebrows raise; had Granny changed her recipe since he had been there last? Almost unconsciously, he moaned as well, then looked down as a slight flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks.

"You're right, Swan. Granny seems to have outdone herself today," he said, trying to cover his blush by stealing a fry off her plate and popping it into her mouth.

"Hey!"

"Still want it?" he queried innocently. In response, Emma snagged a fry off of his own plate, causing his eyebrows to raise in surprise before she grinned at him, laughing, and before he knew it, he was, as well.

 

It hit him, all at once, that this seemed so easy, so normal, all of this, and he thought that he could definitely get used to this. 

 

* * *

 

 

"See you tomorrow, Jones." He stopped in front of her door as she opened it, then turned back around. He nodded and stepped forwards, ignoring the surprise and hint of panic in her eyes and kissing her hand. His eyes flicked upwards, finding hers, and although her expression was calm and unflustered, he saw, with a twinge of amusement, that her eyes were anything but.

"Seriously?" she asked, incredulity the only thing that bled through from her inner turmoil. He merely pulled back, smiling once more at her.

"Goodnight, Swan," he replied, turning on his heel and retreating as fast as he could because he knew that if he lingered, her hand wasn't going to be the only thing he kissed that night. 

 

Once he reached his home, he grabbed his phone, sending a text to Emma.

9:56 [Killian]: Wonderland, 7:00 next Wednesday? 

[Emma]: I don't think that's a good idea.

9:58 P.M. [Killian]: My apologies, I didn't know you hated that place. Um... Neverland, perhaps? 

Minutes passed by, and he sighed, inwardly cursing. He knew exactly what she was trying to do- open book, really- and he typed up another text.

10:02 P.M. [Killian]: Love, I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work.

10:03 P.M. [Emma]: I'm not trying to do anything. My Wednesdays just filled up.

He almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the text.

[Killian]: Sure you are. Love, why don't you try something new? It's called trust.  

 

* * *

 

 

"Jones, truth or dare?" the next day had rolled by, and somehow, here he was again at the  _Enchanted Forest,_ with Emma sitting next to him.

"Truth."  _Because I will only ever tell you the truth._

"Um... where did you meet Milah?" _Anything but that question._ He couldn't tell her; not now, in front of everyone, (maybe not ever, a small part of his brain whispered) but he couldn't lie, either.

"The beach in Miami," he responded, resisting the urge to scratch behind his ear. Emma stared at him suspiciously, and, not for the first time, he wondered if she could tell he wasn't telling her the whole truth.

 

"You lied earlier, you know."

"Did I?" he deadpanned, willing her to get the message. But Emma, stubborn lass she was, didn't back down.

"Yeah. You didn't really meet Milah on the beach, did you? Or if you did, there was something more to it."

"I'm glad to see you care so much about me, after shutting me out because I wanted to go to dinner with you once a week as friends," he snapped, feeling strangely angry. Angry because she was shutting him out, because she was still expecting  _him_ to be open with her after doing so, because she just didn't seem to see just how much he cared for her. 

Emma looked down, a shadow crossing her face, and he felt a stab of regret course through him. 

"Look, I..."  _Hate you? Never want to see you again? Want to remain friends? Don't care how much I hurt you?_ "Jones, I..."

She looked so stricken, he found himself responding without thought.

"Emma..." he said softly, trying to convey just  _how much_ and  _how_ he cared for her. "Alright. I'll tell you. But you have to tell me something, too." he sat back in the booth, fully expecting her to refuse, but she must have had more to drink than he had thought, for she slowly nodded. A moment later, fear crossed her face again, and he moved closer to her.

"Emma, look at me," he whispered. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. If you don't want to answer the question, don't answer. Just... please don't lie to me." Emma looked up, green eyes meeting blue, and slowly nodded once more.

"How did you meet Graham?" he asked softly, not wanting to scare her, but somehow needing to know. He needed to know everything about Emma Swan; her childhood, her teenage years, her first boyfriend even; this strange compelling urge to know everything about her. 

"I..."

"I understand if you don't want to answer," he said quickly, suddenly realizing it couldn't have been a happy circumstance. Great. Now he was just dredging up old memories of past experiences she now had to relive, no matter if she told him or not. 

"He saved me. A long time ago." He knew he shouldn't ask her, but he found himself doing so anyway.

"From what?"

"I... my..." Killian opened his mouth, about to cut in and start with his story, but Emma started talking again. "One of m- the men in town decided I was... desirable." she looked timidly back up at him, probably expecting contempt, or perhaps disgust, but he only felt white hot rage filling his veins.

"I hope Graham killed the man," he growled, wishing he had been there. He would've castrated the man with a rusty razor if he could have. He shook his head slightly, ridding himself of the thoughts. "I'm sorry Swan," he added. He might not know what exactly she had been through, but he could still, in part, understand what she had been through- he had, after all, been abandoned before in his life, more than once.

Somehow, his look of understanding must have hit her panic button, because she turned and ran. 

"I need to go, Jones. It's an emergency." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Swan!  _Swan!!_ " this woman would be the death of him. 

He ran after her, determined to catch her, determined to prove that he was trustworthy. He grabbed her arm, and it was only when she turned around, fear and panic in her eyes, that he realized that was the wrong move. Her knee came up, and before he knew it, he was on the ground, groaning.  _Idiot._ He was such an idiot. 

"Swan," he gasped, trying to move through the pain. She looked slightly horrified, but terrified at the same time.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, sounding as winded as he.

As he struggled to his feet, she turned and ran once more.

This time, he couldn't catch her.

 

* * *

 

 

"Where's Emma?" Ruby looked up from her beer.

"She said she had work." Killian closed his eyes, frustrated and annoyed.

"Sure she did," he bit out, glad that Milah had had work again; he didn't think she'd be too happy to see him asking about Emma. Ruby raised one eyebrow. The rest of the group had left, leaving Ruby and Killian sitting in comfortable silence, which afforded the two relative privacy.

"What happened between you two?"

"Nothing."

"You're a worse liar than she is," Ruby informed him with a disappointed sigh. 

"So you knew she was lying and you let her get away with it?" 

"Once Emma's made her mind, there isn't much you can do to change it. Besides," she continued, "I don't really know her well enough to argue her into coming. If I'd known you were the trouble though..." Ruby smirked. "Friday, she'll be here if I have to bribe Regina into dragging her here by her ear." 

Killian smiled slightly.

"So, what happened?" normally, Ruby was over-eager about this sort of thing, wanting to know all the juicy details, but this time, she just seemed worried. She must care a lot about Swan already, he thought.

"Long story short, she decided that a month wasn't long enough to be able to trust me and decided not to answer any of my texts. She's been avoiding me since Friday." 

Ruby raised an eyebrow. "And you haven't tried charming her?" Killian bristled; he and Ruby were friends; they had often been each other's wingmen before he had become Milah's boyfriend, and he was insulted Ruby thought Emma was just another conquest to him. Though, he would have thought she'd be a little bit more annoyed about him trying to make her friend into a one night stand...

"I'm not trying to get into her pants, Ruby!" he snapped.

"I never said you were; I can tell you care about her."

"Then why tell me to charm her? If I win her heart, it won't be because of any tricks I have, it'll be because she wants me there." 

"So you  _do_ want to win her heart." Ruby sounded way too happy about this entire thing. 

"Aye." he admitted softly. He could finally admit it now; he was in love with Emma Swan, beyond the point of no return. 

"So, no more Milah?" she asked hopefully, and Killian's eyes widened. 

He had completely forgotten about Milah. 

He had a duty to her; it was expected of him to marry her, for her father was almost as rich as his, the owner of his father's rival company, and a marriage contract would solidify the two companies into one. It was a business transaction, only Milah wasn't aware of that. She thought he was in love with her... He knew he could refuse, but his father had his... ways... of convincing people to do what he wanted. 

He dropped his head into his hands, a sense of hopelessness overwhelming his entire being.

He had always gotten everything he had never wanted; money, cars, women, but now he would never have the one thing he would always want: Emma. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has no beta reader, so please excuse any typos or grammatical mishaps; if you do happen to spot them, please tell me so I can fix it quickly. :)
> 
> Reviews are like Captain Swan- they put a smile on my face and make my insides feel warm and fuzzy.


	7. If I'm not the Best then You're Stuck

_It's probably what's best for you,_

_I only want the best for you,_

_And if I'm not the best then you're stuck..._

 

Ruby definitely had not been exaggerating when she had said she would bribe Regina into dragging Emma in by the ear.

 

"Regina! Let me go!" Emma was flailing, something he found strangely adorable, trying to get Regina's strong grip off of her arm- and failing miserably, as Regina simply tightened her grip, ignoring the stares of the passerbys as she shoved the blonde into the group's booth. Emma landed with a thud right smack-dab next to him, and he once more felt grateful Milah wasn't there. She'd always had a strange dislike of Emma, even when Emma had made clear she in no way encouraged Killian's advances, and he doubted she'd be too happy to see this scene.

Especially as Emma, who despite her last name was not exactly graceful, in her crash landing into the booth, grabbed at him to steady herself and ended up with a soft hand on his midsection. He groaned inwardly and resisted the urge to groan outwardly as his nether regions stirred to life; impeccable timing, really. She didn't seem to notice, thankfully, though she kept her hand on him for a moment and shifted her hips, before finally, _thankfully,_ taking her hand off. He thanked God they were seated under a table and no one noticed his prominent erection, which only increased with every shift and movement Emma made. He shook his head inwardly. He was known as being a playboy- some women even called him a man whore- but never had a simple accidental touch made him into a horny, needy teenager that could only think about how much he wanted to just strip Emma naked and take her, in front of the entire rest of the group or not. 

So preoccupied was he with his lewd thoughts that he missed out on a large part of the conversation, only snapping to attention when Ruby asked him, "What do you think, Killian?"

"What about, milady?" Ruby raised an eyebrow and glanced for a fraction of a second downwards to where his straining cock was, almost as if she could see it. Apparently, nothing could slip past that woman. He could only be thankful she was on the other side of the table; he was sure she'd be able to  _sense_ his arousal if she was one step closer. She had a wolf's uncanny senses in that regard.

"Is something preoccupying you?" she asked with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"Work," he answered as calmly as he could. "I was thinking about a new venture that would most likely bore you to hear." Ruby quirked her eyebrow back up for a moment and he silently prayed she wouldn't push the topic. After a moment of silence, she gave the slightest shrug of her shoulders and decided to stop her interrogation.

"We were discussing different sex positions," Ruby told him, wolfish smirk coming back. He sighed exasperatedly, even as David turned pink and told Ruby indignantly that that was  _not_ what they were discussing. 

"What are you lovelies discussing?" a new voice comes in to Killian's left and he turned his head quickly. Graham. Ruby's grin widened as she gave him a suggestive wink, and the poor man's eyes mimic the motion as his cheeks slowly began turning red. "On second thoughts, I'd rather not know." Ruby ignored him.

"Well? With all your experience, you've got to have a favorite, Killian," the she-wolf pressed him. He risked a glance at Emma, who tightened her jaw ever so slightly. Was she... jealous? Impossible. She'd made sure to stress the point he was only a friend...

 _Not even that now,_ he thought dryly. 

"I don't have one," he finally stated. "Now, if we could hopefully chart this conversation into waters that doesn't have poor Dave turning into a tomato..." Ruby gave him a look that says  _this isn't over_ , while Mary Margaret quickly popped in with a review of a newly opened bar, effectively steering the previous awkward topic into something that finally let the pounding in his cock lessen. 

 

* * *

 

 

Once more, he and Emma were the last ones to leave. Ruby had just left, after giving him a wink and mouthing the words 'Go get her', before she had slid out of the booth and vanished. 

Emma quickly stood up as well; from the strange look on her face she was probably wondering exactly why she hadn't left earlier. Instinctively, he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. 

"Love, please wait."

"Not your love." it was almost automatic now, he noticed, something she seemed so used to, that it didn't even require thought to respond to. He heaved an annoyed breath. 

"I never answered your question last week."

"I've had enough of your blackmail. I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

"I didn't blackmail you! You agreed to it, fair and square, and now I want to keep up my end of the deal."

"I'm not interested in it anymore, Jones," she informed him coldly, tugging on his grip. He slowly loosened his hold, knowing it would do no good to argue now. 

"Very well, Swan. If... if you ever want to know, you know where to find me." Emma pulled her arm free, turned on her heel, and fled, leaving him staring sadly at her retreating form. Why was he even trying anymore? He would never have her anyway; his father had already made sure to that. He rested his head on the table, staring blankly at nothing for a very long time. 

 

* * *

 

 

 _I have next Wednesday free, how about you?_ Emma stared at the text. She shouldn't even be thinking about sending this text; she should be packing up and leaving, but somehow, she just couldn't, not yet. Something about the people here... it was like nothing she'd ever felt before. Her finger hovered over the send button, trembling, and finally she took a deep breath. 

_We're not going on a date. We're not even going out to dinner as friends. He owes me information and I want that information. That's all. There is nothing between the two of us._

Her finger lightly tapped the send button and she closed her eyes. Within a minute, she got a reply. 

8:29 P.M. [Killian]: It so happens that I do, milady. 

[Emma]: The Jolly Roger? 

[Killian]: The Jolly Roger? I have to admit, love, I always knew there was a little pirate in you, but that much?

[Emma]: Shut up. 

8:30 P.M. [Emma]: Look, if you don't want to go, just tell me. It's fine. 

[Emma]: I'm used to rejection. 

She slapped her hand to her forehead.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

[Killian]: My apologies, but, with your leave, I'll accustom you to something else entirely. 

She could almost  _see_ his eyebrows waggling. 

[Emma]: You don't have my leave. Not like that ever stopped you before.

8:32 P.M. [Killian]: So, 7:30?

The abrupt topic change startled Emma, as did the slightly delayed response. It wasn't like Jones to pass up an opportunity to flirt with her. What was going on?

[Emma]: Sure. 

There wasn't really anything else she could say, because backing off was exactly what she wanted, right?  _Right?_

She ignored the tiny voice that said,  _wrong._

 

* * *

 

"Swan," said a very subdued-looking Jones as soon as she opened the door, his expression instantly changing the moment he took her in. "Swan... you look..."

"I know," Emma said with the tiniest bit of a smirk. She glanced over Jones, making sure she hadn't overdressed, and couldn't resist adding, "You clean up nice yourself." Jones stepped back, allowing Emma to exit, and offered her his arm without missing a beat. 

"Shall we?" She hesitated for a fraction of a second, and Jones started moving his arm back down to his side, always alert to her wishes but she quickly linked her arm through his before he could complete the action. A tiny jolt of electricity shot through her, and she started slightly, wondering if Jones had felt it, too. He said nothing, however, and Emma found herself staring at his face, knowing she was potentially setting herself up for endless innuendos but not caring. Something was wrong; normally he'd be joking, or talking, or  _something_  (He never seemed to be able to shut up), but now he seemed dead, lifeless.

"What's wrong?" she finally asked as they stepped outside and started towards their car, fed up with the silence (and since when did she get fed up with _silence?_ What was Jones doing to her?), her plans for getting information out of Jones about Milah flying out the window along with her common sense.

"Nothing," he said- too quickly.

"That's a lie." it came out harsher than she intended, and Jones stiffened. "What's wrong?" she asked again, gentler. Jones opened her car door, but Emma refused to get in, staring into his eyes.

"Just work," he mumbled, moving around the car quickly, and Emma sighed in exasperation as she climbed into the car. She wasn't going to get anything out of Jones yet, but she was willing to bet he'd be a bit more loose-tongued after a few drinks. 

 

* * *

 

 

"So," Emma said casually, as Jones started on his third drink. He looked up, eyes not as clear as they usually were, his face suddenly soft. His gentle expression would have unnerved her if she didn't have more pressing matters at hand, but right now he was more important than she was. "How's work?" she broached the topic casually, softly, hoping that his drunk mind wouldn't remember earlier.

"Fine," he said, speech slightly slurred, and Emma grinned triumphantly, though it was quickly silenced after his next words. "Why do you ask,  _love_?" her smile fading, Emma stared at him, eyes wide and the familiar thrum of panic starting up. It wasn't that he hadn't called her love before- he had- but this time, it seemed different. The strange look in his eyes, his soft expression, the way his voice caressed the syllable like he...

Like he  _meant_ it. 

 _He's drunk,_ she told herself.  _He'd probably tell the same thing to a mailbox right now._ Except he wasn't drunk, just tipsy. He could hold his liquor very well, she knew from experience, which meant Jones was... mostly... aware of his surroundings. 

Then she realized he wasn't actually on his third drink. He was on his fifth. 

And then, she realized Jones was moving. Towards her. With the same soft expression on his face. 

And then, his lips touched hers. First, her eyes shot open in shock (when had she even closed them?), then they began closing again, because it felt so  _right_. He tasted of rum, and salt, and something else warm and masculine and soothing, and before she knew it, she was kissing him back, her tongue dancing with his. His left hand drifted up her back and tangled into her hair, pulling her closer to him, while his right cradled her cheek, a tender move contrasting deeply with the rising passion of the kiss. 

Jones nipped roughly on her bottom lip, and she moaned lightly, feeling heat rush down south as she carded a hand through his silky dark hair, her other hand somehow finding itself resting lightly on his back. Jones slid his right hand downwards, and Emma finally snapped out of her daze, pulling back but clutching his collar desperately with one hand because  _that man could kiss_. She opened her eyes to find his azure ones already on hers, a lot clearer than they had been a moment before (or was it an hour? She had no idea). 

"That was..." Jones started, his gaze showing a strange mixture of lust, horror, and something else, something warm she really, really did not want to know. 

"That was..." Emma echoed, unable to think of a substitute. A one time thing?

"A one time thing," Jones said firmly, as if reading her thoughts. "I took advantage of you while in a drunk state, and for that, I apologize, milady." Emma opened her mouth, shocked beyond belief, because after all Jones had done, after _everything_ he had done, she had a hard time believing he would just back off like that.

 _He was drunk, and besides, he's only ever told you he wants to be friends, nothing more, just friends,_ a logical voice stated matter-of-factly in her head. Even though she knew it was true, and even though she should have expected it (because who ever wanted her, Emma Swan, orphan, lost girl?) it still hurt. Even after all those times, it still hurt.

For some reason, though, it hurt more this time. 

With a heavy heart, Emma watched Jones turn tail and run out of the Jolly Roger, his footsteps following the path she had taken so many times before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, guys! Like usual, though, reviews and kudos are like the CS date last Saturday- they both make me grin non-stop for the entire time and even flail sometimes!


	8. Author's Note

Hey, guys. I know it's been a really long time since I last updated, and I think you guys deserve to know that I'm probably never going to finish this fic. Since I first started this fic, I've grown a lot in my writing style, and now I've realized that this story has way too many plot holes and the writing is terrible, so, unless a miracle happens, this is going to remain a WIP. Thank you to the people who reviewed and kudos'ed this work, and as to my other WIPs, fear not, because I'm probably going to be updating either Crucible or Trapped soon. 

Thanks again, guys! 


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